


How Many More Times

by Ketch22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Again Trust Me It's Both, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Butt Plugs, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel and Dean Winchester Falling in Love, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time Having Sex, Castiel/Dean Winchester Mutual Pining, Closeted Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Has a Panty Kink, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Gabriel is So Done (Supernatural), Gay Panic, Hunter Dean Winchester, Kid Dean Winchester, Lawyer Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Old Dean Winchester, Openly Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Openly Gay Dean Winchester, Record Store Employee Dean Winchester, Sam and Dean Have a Broment, Sexual Tension, Switching, Time Loop, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Trickster Gabriel (Supernatural), Trust Me It's Both
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 08:33:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 40
Words: 51,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22393165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ketch22/pseuds/Ketch22
Summary: After a hunt that forces Castiel to admit his feelings for Dean, more than one truth comes out. Desperate to right the wrong he allowed to happen 26 years ago, he travels back in time and stops Azazel from murdering Mary Winchester. John never becomes a hunter, and Dean grows up a normal kid while Castiel deals with the aftermath of his decision in Heaven. When the war dies down, he comes back to Earth to fulfill a promise - a promise he made to come back for Dean one day. They fall in love all over again, but just when Castiel is finally happy, they're thrown back in time once more. How many times will Cass and Dean need to find each other before they figure out who’s screwing with them, and more importantly, how to stop them?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester
Comments: 86
Kudos: 120
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to CeliPuff for the aesthetics!!

Castiel looked around desperately for Dean. This was supposed to be an easy hunt - two, maybe three demons causing a stir in rural Wyoming. A milk run, as Dean would call it. Castiel wasn’t sure when ‘milk run’ became slang for ‘trap,’ but here they were. Surrounded by what seemed to be half the demon population -- and if that was an exaggeration, it made little difference to Cass. He searched for green eyes amid an ocean of black ones, but there was so much chaos around him that he couldn’t see much of anything at all. Panic rose in his chest and he called out for Dean in his mind, but got no response. He swept through the mass of demons, smiting and stabbing almost blindly in his attempt to find Dean Winchester - his best friend, the Righteous Man, and the love of his entire existence. 

The longer it took, the more frenzied Cass became. He screamed Dean’s name over the noise of what had quickly become a battle, but it was as lost to the wind as Dean himself was. He saw several of his brethren in the fray, it would seem his call for aid over angel radio was not ignored. He was surprised to see Hannah when a blast of holy light abruptly cleared the space in front of him. 

“Castiel! What is happening here?” 

Cass shook his head quickly, trying to convey that he had no clue how this got so out of hand so quickly. “Have you seen Dean?” 

The sad expression on Hannah’s face told him all he needed to know, and he closed his eyes. He extended his grace out in a last-ditch effort to find the soul that bore his mark, and _finally_ found it. Castiel immediately teleported to him, leaving Hannah to fend for herself against the horde of demons closing in. Dean was on the ground, bloody and broken, with a demon pacing circles around him. 

“This is the great Dean Winchester?” The demon barked a laugh, spitting on Dean. “I’m disappointed, I expected you to be…” 

Whatever the demon expected Dean to be, no one will ever know. He teleported behind the demon and drove his angel blade right through his throat. When the light cleared, Cass had reached his breaking point; he no longer cared why the demons were there or how the tide may turn if he left. He bent down, grabbing Dean and teleported them as far away as he could manage.

They landed with a thud, and Dean cried out in pain. Cass let his hands drift over Dean’s body, healing both tissue and bone. He squirmed from the warring sensations and stilled when Cass was done. A few moments passed before Dean’s eyes opened and he sprang to his feet. 

“Cass! What the _hell,_ man! You couldn’t have done that there?! We gotta go back, take me back!” 

“No.” Gone were the days of Cass letting Dean walk, blindly or with eyes wide open, into situations that were sure to get him killed. 

Dean narrowed his eyes slowly. “I’m sorry, did you just say _no?_ Cass, we can’t just walk away -” 

“We can, and we did. Sit down. I’m not taking you back, you have no car, and no other way to get there.” _And I’m not watching you die,_ he added to himself. _Not again._

The resulting glare he received from Dean would have chilled his bones if he were capable of feeling temperatures. He mumbled _fine_ under his breath and sat down. In the following moments, Castiel watched Dean’s lips move - but no sound was coming out. 

Dean might has well have slapped him in the face. He was praying, and not to him. Dean Winchester was a lot of things, but he was _not_ someone that prayed. To anyone, under any circumstances. Cass quickly sent out an explicitly worded threat over angel radio warning all of Heaven not to answer Dean. 

“They won’t come for you.” 

He was ignored. Dean’s lips kept moving, the muscles in his jaw flexing with determination and irritation. Cass simply sat back and waited until Dean’s chest heaved and he let out a breath of defeat. 

Silence filled the air around them, and Castiel finally took a moment to look around. They were on a grassy hillside that descended into a body of gorgeous blue water. Mountains rose up on the other side of the lake, reaching towards the sky not unlike a child would reach for their mother. It was breathtaking. 

“Where the hell are we, anyway?” Dean’s voice was still laced with bitterness and anger, but at least he was talking.   
  


“Somewhere in New Zealand. I wasn’t focused on our destination when we left, I was simply trying to get you as far away from those demons as possible.” 

Dean rose to his feet, rounding on Castiel. “Yeah, but _why?_ Cass, you’ve never pulled me out before the job was done. Ever. Yeah, we were outnumbered like 50 to 1, but all the other winged dickbags showed up - we shouldn’t’ve fuckin’ left them.” 

“Do you have a death wish, Dean? I mean, more-so than normal? Let the angels handle it, there was no reason for you to still be there and in case you don’t remember, you were _broken,_ Dean. That demon would have killed you if I hadn’t found you.” 

He huffed, looking away from Castiel. “Yeah, trust me, I fuckin’ remember. But it took you, what, like 6 seconds to heal me and get me back on my feet? This wasn’t any different than any of the other hunts we’ve gone on where I get my shit rocked and you patch me up. But we _always_ get back in the game and finish what we started, no matter what the odds are.” 

“Yes, Dean, six seconds that might have gotten us both killed. It was safer to bring you somewhere else, and now that you’re safe, I refuse to take you back.” Cass paused for a moment as reports over angel radio started to trickle in. Dean said something, but it was background noise. “They did it, it’s over. The demons are gone and Bartholomew is currently searching for the reason behind it. It’s over, Dean.” 

Dean’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah, no fuckin’ thanks to us.” He sat back down on the ground and rubbed his face. “You gonna tell me the truth yet, or you gonna keep lyin’ to me like we don’t have a bond that fuckin’ _tells_ me when you’re lyin’?” 

Cass stiffened. “The truth? I told you the truth, Dean. It wasn’t necessary for you to be there anymore and I needed you to be safe.” 

“That’s not the whole fucking truth and you know it, Cass. Spit it the fuck out.” 

_I love you. I love you and I can’t watch you die again._ The words came so much easier in his head. He’d never been able to say them out loud, but… maybe now it was time. “Dean, I…” He trailed off, his nerve already failing him. 

Dean stood, years’ worth of exhaustion and loss etched in his face. “Goddamnit, angel. Either say what you need to say, or take me home. It’s been a long fucking day.” 

“You and I… we’re all each other has left, Dean. I can’t bear the thought of losing you, too. Is that not enough?” 

Something darkened behind Dean’s eyes. “No, _you_ are all _I_ got left. You still have the other angels... Hannah, Balthazar, Gabriel. Sammy - Sammy’s gone, so that makes sense for _me._ Not for you.” 

“You’re the only thing I have left that matters, Dean.” The words came out in a rush, and he knew they still weren’t going to be enough. Dean opened his mouth to press him further, but Cass cut him off. “Damnit, Dean.” He reached up, grabbing Dean’s face with both of his hands and claimed Dean’s mouth as his own, swallowing the words Dean was trying to get out. It was instantaneous relief, cut short by the fact that Dean roughly pushed him away. 

“What - the - _fuck -_ was that?”

Cass stood his ground. It was too late to take it back, anyway. “That, Dean, was a kiss.” 

“No shit, but … why…” Dean looked as confused as Cass had ever seen him, pointing back and forth between them. 

Cass rolled his eyes, no longer concerned with how Dean was going to react - he absolutely saw this coming. “I’m in love with you, you oblivious, suicidal moron. My ‘people skills’ might be ‘rusty’, but I’m fairly certain that’s still how humans show affection.” 

“Uh.” Dean blinked, then brought his hand up to scratch the side of his head. The anger Cass had felt radiating off of him had dissipated entirely, and now… it was kind of adorable watching him struggle to process what had happened. “I uhh… I’m not sure I got the full effect the first time. Maybe you should try it again, y’know… just to uhh… be sure I understand.” 

Hope sparked in Castiel’s chest for the first time since before Sam Winchester died. He closed the distance between them that was created when Dean pushed him away, and kissed him again. He poured a decade’s worth of longing and love into that single kiss, and something inside of him unraveled when Dean began to kiss him back. It was a slow process, getting Dean to open up and let him in. Cass nipped at Dean’s bottom lip, peppering shallow kisses as his hands found Dean’s face. Dean’s own hands were gripping Castiel’s sides so tightly that he was sure he’d have bruises shaped like calloused fingers if he weren’t an angel of the Lord. No, not an angel of the Lord. He stopped serving God a long time ago. Now, he served only the human in front of him, and it was finally time to prove it. 

Dean was breathing heavily through his nose despite the gentleness of the kiss that Cass initially refused to break. Castiel could feel the nervous energy vibrating Dean’s bones, and he knew that if he ever wanted Dean to relax, he had to let him set the pace. He pulled back, licking his own permanently chapped lip as he rested his forehead against Dean’s. “It’s okay, Dean. I will never do anything to hurt you.” The words were soft and barely audible, but it was enough to draw a quiet gasp from Dean, and the atmosphere around them changed as abruptly as it had when they were overrun by demons. This time, however, the change was something Castiel had waited _years_ for. 

Dean was the one to lean in this time, their mouths crashing together under the heat of the summer sun. Cass’s hands dropped from Dean’s face to his waist and slid up under his shirt at the same time Dean decided he’d had enough of Cass’s trench coat. 

“Off, Cass. Take this fucking thing off.” 

Reluctant to take his hands off of Dean now that they were finally there for a purpose other than healing him, Castiel used his grace to strip himself of the tanned coat that had been his staple since the day they’d met the first time. Dean growled, his hands fisting around the suit jacket Cass was still wearing. 

“You wear more fucking layers than _I_ do, I swear to god.” Cass’s hands left Dean’s body as Dean pushed the jacket off his shoulders. Cass grinned at the look on Dean’s face when he realized there were still two shirts under that jacket. He took a moment to undress, watching the way Dean’s chest rose and fell with rapid little bursts. 

“Your turn, Dean,” he said, as his final layer hit the grass below him. His torso was marked with angel blade scars, the evidence of thousands of years worth of wars. Dean’s eyes traveled over him as he shrugged out of his own layers, and then they came back together, bare chests flush as Cass’s mouth found Dean’s neck. 

Dean swore under his breath as Cass bit down gently, his tongue flicking over the skin now trapped between his teeth. “F-fuck, harder.” 

Cass obliged, picking a new patch of skin to taste as Dean let out a moan. Cass broke his cardinal rule and scanned Dean’s mind, searching for any sign of hesitation or resistance. What he found there had his cock rapidly thickening inside his slacks. Dean was already imagining what it would feel like to fuck - or be fucked _by -_ an angel, and Cass decided that it was time to find out. 

He dropped to his knees, letting his jet black wings out behind him as his hands ran up and down Dean’s thighs. He glanced up at the hunter’s face, searching for permission. Dean didn’t bother with an answer this time, he simply reached down and hastily undid his belt. Cass took the hint and slid Dean’s jeans down to his knees, leaving just his boxers in place. Castiel wasn’t a stranger to sex, he’d had his fair share of it in the centuries leading up to meeting Dean, and he knew exactly how make him squirm. Cass’s hot breath ghosted over Dean’s length through the fabric and Dean leaned into it, threading his fingers in Cass’s hair in an attempt to guide his head. 

“Patience, Dean. I’ve been waiting an _extremely_ long time for this, I want to savor it. Savor _you._ ” He ran his lips over the bulge and slowly reached up to pull Dean’s boxers down, the anticipation building inside of him. He’d never admit it, but he’d seen Dean like this before. He watched him for years, first as part of his mission from Heaven and then simply because he couldn’t pull his eyes away. But this was the first time he was this close, and certainly the first time he had permission to actually touch him. 

Dean sucked in a breath when his thickening cock sprang free, and Cass’s head was once more being guided forward. As it turned out, Cass’s well of patience wasn’t nearly as deep as he’d believed, so he ran his tongue along Dean’s shaft and relished the moan it drew. Castiel’s hand wrapped around him and his mouth followed, pulling Dean in with a hunger that had been barely concealed for years. 

“Fuck, fuck - is this really fucking happening right now?” Dean’s words were awed, and Cass’s responding nod only drove Dean deeper into his throat. “Shit- uhh, Cass, jesus that’s -” 

Cass hummed, his tongue gliding under Dean’s length as his cheeks hollowed out around him. He flicked his ocean blue eyes up to Dean’s, pulling back until just the tip of Dean’s cock was still trapped between his lips. “ _Move, Dean. Take what you need from me.”_ The command was silent, spoken directly into Dean’s mind, but his point was made. Cass opened his mouth wider as Dean thrust in, one hand now gripping Cass’s wing joint as the other used his hair to tilt his head back. 

Cass wanted to close his eyes and revel in the feeling of Dean’s cock stretching every part of his mouth and that glorious hand on his wing, but he didn’t want to miss a single second of Dean’s expression. He looked almost wild, his green irises barely visible around lust-blown pupils, sweat beading down his forehead… mouth hanging slightly open as he fucked Castiel’s mouth with borderline violence. 

He was an angel, he could take whatever Dean threw at him in this regard, so he let him. He braced his hands on Dean’s thighs, saliva and precum leaking from the corners of his mouth as he expanded his throat to let Dean in a little further with each thrust. 

“Fuck, Cass - I’m -” 

Cass lurched forward, no longer letting Dean set the pace. He buried his nose against Dean’s pelvis, reaching up to play with Dean’s balls and pressing a single finger to the skin behind them. Dean cried out, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he emptied into Cass’s throat. Cass pulled off slowly, sucking hard and licking up every single drop that leaked from Dean. 

Dean was upright for another moment before falling on his ass as his knees gave out. “Where the… _hell…_ did you learn how to do that?!” The words were huffed out between heavy, satisfied sounding breaths. 

“I assure you, it wasn’t Hell… although there was _one_ time… nevermind.” Cass flicked his thumb over the side of his mouth and then laid down next to Dean. He was impossibly hard, but refused to even suggest Dean do anything about it - it would be a miracle if Dean’s dopamine levels hadn’t already crashed. He did, however, reach a hand out and place it on Dean’s back, sending gentle waves of calming grace through him just in case. He bent the leg closest to Dean so his slacks hid his boner. “Are you alright?” 

Dean was silent as his breathing slowly evened out. “Yeah, uhh… shit. Yeah. I’ve wanted to do that for…” he trailed off and tilted his head towards the sky. “A long ass time. Just didn’t think you’d ever want me, that’s all.” 

Cass’s chest tightened. “Of course I did, Dean. I’m sorry I didn’t say something or do something sooner, I just… you’d been through so much, I didn’t want to add anything else if it turned out you didn’t feel the same.” 

“Dude, you’re a friggen _angel…_ why didn’t you just read my mind or somethin’?” 

“I swore to you I wouldn’t, and so I don’t unless it’s absolutely necessary. Finding out if you were in love with me or not never really seemed to fit the bill.” 

Dean shifted to face Cass, once more looking at the scars decorating his chest. He reached out and ran his thumb over one of the worst ones Cass had ever gotten.

“What happened here?” 

He didn’t have to look to know which one Dean was talking about. “Alastair. Raising you from perdition wasn’t… _quite_ as easy as I’d originally let on.” 

“Yeah, about that… do you think this… _whatever_ this is… is just the bond from when you pulled me out?” 

Cass sighed quietly. He knew on some level that Dean wasn’t going to just readily accept his feelings, so it didn’t surprise him when Dean’s first instinct was to blame the bond. “No, I don’t. At least not for me. I watched you for years before you even went to Hell, and although my feelings for you deepened exponentially after we met… I think on some level, they were always there.” 

“Huh.” Dean rubbed his jaw. “You uh… were watchin’ me?” 

_So much for not admitting it._ “Yes, part of my mission was to ensure you and Sam stayed alive long enough to avert the apocalypse. Or, I suppose now that I know the truth… it was to keep you alive long enough to begin it. So it is written, so it shall be.” 

“So what, you just… sat up in Heaven, laughin’ with your dickbag friends when Azazel killed my mom? When my dad sold his fuckin’ soul to save me after that accident? All of it?”

In all of the times that Castiel had ever imagined this conversation playing out, he hadn’t anticipated that question. “Dean… you have to understand how different things were back then. I was a soldier that knew almost nothing but Heaven’s orders. I was given an order and I obeyed, up until I chose you and my wings turned black.” 

Dean nodded, but Cass could feel the tension and pain coiling deep in Dean’s stomach as his silence stretched from a moment to what felt like a lifetime. When he finally spoke, his voice was low. “Nah, man. I get it. I remember what you were like when we met, I guess I can’t really blame you. Just fuckin’ sucks, y’know? Things coulda been so different if you knew then what you know now.” 

The truth of that statement hit Castiel like a brick. “Dean, I’m sorry.” 

“Doesn’t matter now, right? Can’t change the past.” Dean rubbed his face with both hands and then laid back, turning on his side to face Cass. “I guess I should just be grateful we don’t have to hide this shit anymore, right? I know how you feel, you know how I feel. Hell, maybe we’ll finally be able to squeak a little bit of happiness outta this fucked up world.” 

Castiel wanted to agree. Wanted to reach over and kiss Dean until all the memories of the horror he’d been through disappeared, but there was one thing about what he said that made Castiel incapable of doing such a thing. “I can, Dean.” 

“Huh?” 

“Change the past. I can. I’m an angel, we’ve changed the past before.” 

The bond between them ignited with a flash of hope from Dean that disappeared almost as quickly as it started. “Yeah, but there’s always consequences. It’s never that damn simple.” 

Cass watched Dean, a thousand memories of blood and tears and war flashing through his mind. “To hell with the consequences, Dean. It’s time I do what I should have done from the very beginning.” 

Dean sat up again, looking down at him with an expression laced with confusion and concern. “What the hell are you talkin’ about, Cass?” 

“I’m going to go back and kill Azazel.” The words came out forceful, like they belonged in the space between them instead of buried in Castiel’s heart. “I’m going to give you the life you deserved, Dean. Damn the consequences.” Cass got up, kissing Dean once more. “I’ll find you again, one day. I promise. I’ll find you.” 

He snapped his fingers and disappeared before Dean could say a word.


	2. Part One: Love Me Two Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to the beginning.

**_Castiel_**

Cass crouched across the street from Dean’s childhood home. His nose was bleeding and pain richoched through his body from time traveling, but he got to his feet and fixed his eyes upon Sam’s nursery window. He took a deep breath, steadying himself as he pulled the Colt from his trench coat. The extra energy it took to time travel to get it weakened him, but if he succeeded, this would be the last time that gun ever needed to be fired. 

He double checked the chamber of the gun and camouflaged himself before teleporting into Sam’s room. His goal was to grab Azazel, take them both somewhere more secluded and end this before the Prince of Hell ever had a chance to bleed in Sam’s mouth. 

  
While he waited, he took a peek into Sam’s crib, watching his tiny chest rise and fall. “I failed you, Sam. I let you die, but I’m going to fix it. I’m going to fix everything.” 

He felt Azazel’s presence before he actually saw him. Cass turned quickly, still invisible, and threw himself at the demon. When their bodies connected, he teleported to Stull Cemetery and rolled into a standing position, pointing the gun directly at Azazel’s head. He dropped the camouflage and pulled back the hammer. 

“Hello, Azazel.” 

Azazel’s eyes flashed yellow, his stance changing as he turned more defensive. “Castiel, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You know… I lived through what happens when you succeed in doing what you were there to do. You die, Azazel. Sam Winchester never becomes the Boy King and everything you worked for falls apart. You owe this pleasure to the fact that the Winchesters deserved a better life, and I should have done this the first time.” Cass squeezed his whole hand around the gun, pulling the trigger. A blast of light erupted from the tip of the barrel and the bullet smacked Azazel right between the eyes. As Azazel died, Cass lowered the gun and let out a breath mixed with relief and sadness. It was done, the Winchesters were saved - but now, he had to wait at least twenty years to fulfill his promise to Dean. 

He teleported to Heaven, his wings extended wide behind him. As he walked towards the garden, he noticed flashes of white in his periphery - when he turned his head to see the cause, he stopped dead in his tracks. For the first time in years, his wings were white and glowing with holy light. To his surprise, he immediately felt disconnected from them, like they weren’t his at all - but some foreign entities reminding him that for the foreseeable future, everything in his world was going to be wrong. He tucked them away, no longer wanting the reminder that his connection to Dean Winchester was gone. 

There was chaos rapidly spreading through the garden as news of Azazel’s premature death spread like wildfire. He heard his own name bouncing around angel radio and panic rose in him, just as Joshua came into view and grabbed his arm. 

“Castiel!” Joshua’s grip tightened as he pulled him aside. “What have you done?”

Suddenly fearful, Castiel pulls Joshua out of sight. “I… you know what I did. I killed Azazel, I saved the Winchesters. I saved the world, if the Winchesters don’t grow up to be hunters, the Apocalypse will never happen. Heaven should be thanking me, I just spared everyone years of war.” 

Joshua shook his head slowly. “Your intentions… they were good, Castiel. The repercussions… not so much. I’m sure Hell is beyond enraged with you right now. All the monsters Dean and Sam Winchester killed, who will stop them now?” 

“I will. And I’ll probably save more lives than they did.” 

Joshua smiled sadly, watching Castiel. “I want to believe you, Castiel. Truly, I do. If you need assistance, please don’t hesitate to ask. I wish you the best of luck.” Joshua placed a reassuring hand on Castiel’s arm and then turned, walking away.

Castiel watched him leave, feeling deep in his gut that something wasn’t right. He’d succeeded, but at what cost? He walked through heaven, speaking to the angels that would even look at him. He was in the middle of a conversation with Hannah, trying to explain what happened when the alarms began to sound from the Axis Mundi. 

Angels in full battle armor began appearing around him and Cass quickly followed suit. It didn’t take long to work out the fact that Hell was attacking - for the first time in his own memory, demons were trying to break down the gates of Heaven. 

It took days, but together, Heaven’s armies managed to beat back the demons and take the fight into Hell itself. The war raged for decades down there until finally, finally, Raphael managed to take out the Queen of Hell, Lilith. A smarmy crossroads demon by the name of Crowley took her place, and peace was restored. 

By the time Castiel made it back to earth, his wings were once more black as night and two years had passed on Earth. He was the catalyst that caused the war that killed thousands of his brothers and sisters, and for that, he was punished. Little did Heaven know that Castiel saw his blackened wings as the greatest gift of all. 

Castiel spent the next twenty years hunting and killing all of the monsters the Winchesters would have taken out had their lives not been dramatically altered. Every day was harder than the last, and he checked up on Dean as often as he could. More than once Cass sought comfort in places… people… he shouldn’t as he waited for a good time to reintroduce himself, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t be long. 

_**Dean** _

Dean Winchester grew up a perfectly normal kid. He played catch with his dad, helped his mom bake pies for their Sunday family dinners, and harassed his little brother Sammy as often as he could. They weren’t crazy rich, but Dean hadn’t really ever wanted for anything. Growing up in Lawrence was about as good as it got, the people were nice, it was safe, and Dean never had to worry about it when he reached his teen years and realized he played for both teams. His dad was a little weirded out when he brought home his first boyfriend, but got over it a lot quicker than he thought he would. 

He graduated high school by the skin of his teeth, but it wasn’t for a lack of brain cells. He just… didn’t give a shit about homework or studying, and it never really stopped him from passing. After that, he got a job at his Uncle Bobby’s auto shop and now, he’d been working there for about seven years. He stopped after work one day to have dinner with Sam, Sam’s girlfriend Jessica, and his own girlfriend, Lisa. 

He pulled his 1967 Chevy Impala into Sam’s driveway and got out, heading inside. He was the last one there and greeted everyone before heading to the kitchen to scrub the grease from his hands. “Smells delicious, what’re we eatin’?”

“We’re good, Dean, thanks for asking. How are you?” Lisa grinned and walked up behind him, kissing his cheek. “Roast, potatoes and corn. It’ll be ready soon.”

“Yeah, yeah. Food first, ask questions later, right?” He turned to kiss her properly and then nodded towards his brother. “You good?” 

“Always,” Sam nodded back, leaning against the counter. “Are you? Uncle Bobby workin’ you too hard?”

“Pssh, more like not hard enough. I still love doin’ it as much today as I did the day Dad handed me my first wrench. Doesn’t feel like work, y’know? Never has.” He helped Lisa and Jess set the table and dish up the food when it was done, and sat down to eat. 

“So, Sammy.” Dean took a bite of his potatoes. “How’s college life treatin’ ya?” 

Sam sipped his beer and then shrugged. “Can’t complain, you know? Finals are a bitch, but I’m getting through them. I just want to graduate.”

“Yeah, I don’t blame you. Savor it while you can though, man. Adulthood’s a real bitch sometimes.” 

Jessica nodded. “You’re not wrong.” 

Lisa smiled politely, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Well, thank you both for hosting tonight. This week has been so busy, I didn’t know if I would’ve been able to pull my shit together in time for dinner tonight.”

Jessica reached over and took Sam’s hand, smiling. “Actually guys… there’s a reason we wanted to host tonight. Sammy? You want to tell them or should I?”

Dean’s eyes lit up. “Wait a minute… did you… are you guys…?” 

Sam chuckled a little and nodded. “Yeah, uh… Jess and I got engaged a coupla days ago. We wanted you guys to be the first to know, we’re gonna tell mom and dad tomorrow.”

Dean stood up, walking around the table and pulling Sam up into a hug. “Jesus, man! It’s about damn time, I mean… I know you guys are only 22 but you’ve been together since the dawn of friggen time - like our own personal Cory and Topanga. Congratulations, and I’d better friggen be your best man.” 

Sam hugged Dean back, chuckling quietly. “Of course you’re gonna be my best man, Dean. I would never even consider anyone else.”  
  
Lisa cleared her throat and smiled. “Congratulations to the both of you. That’s really exciting news.”

The rest of dinner went by smoothly, and after staying to help clean up, Dean and Lisa drove separately back to Dean’s apartment. They paid the babysitter and settled in to watch a movie and then headed to bed, where Dean almost immediately leaned over to kiss her. 

Lisa kissed him back gently… and then rolled over and turned off her lamp. “Goodnight, Dean.”

He huffed, his brow furrowing. “Goodnight? What, no uhh…” he slid his hand down her thigh and kissed her shoulder. “Celebratory ‘my brother’s getting married’ sex?” 

“Dean I -” she rolled to face him, placing her hand on his cheek. “You have work in the morning, and I gotta get up with Ben.” She ran her her fingers through his hair. “Besides, I might be a lot more willing to celebrate if I were the one getting engaged.”

Yikes. “Yeah, uhh… y’know, we just don’t have a lot of money saved up right now. And it’s just a piece of paper, right?” And I’m not entirely sure I even wanna marry you at all. Dean rolled over, facing away from her. “I get it. Maybe tomorrow, yeah?” 

Lisa watched him sadly and just nodded. “Yeah, Dean. Maybe tomorrow.” She sat up and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I’m not upset, Dean. Just… you’re 26 years old and work a fulltime job, and Sam is only 22 and a student, and he’s already engaged. 

“I ain’t my brother, Lis. And him and Jess have been together since they were in like the 2nd grade, you and I have been together, what… six months? Not even? We don’t even officially live together yet.” Dean closed his eyes. “I get where you’re comin’ from, alright? We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” Or not. 

“Yeah, okay, Dean. I - I wasn’t trying to start a fight. I promise.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek again. “I love you.”

“Yeah, you too, Lis. Night.” 

Dean began to drift off to sleep but was woken up by the sound of a voice. He groaned, “c’mon, Lis. Said we’d talk about it tomorrow.” The only answer he was met with was quiet snoring. He leaned up and looked over at her, and she was absolutely still asleep. “What the --” 

He settled back down, pulling the blanket a little higher up this time. He strained his ears to see if he’d hear the voice again, but nothing pierced the silence and he laid awake for what felt like hours wondering who or what the hell had whispered, “it’s time.” 

\------------------------

The next morning, Dean went to work at Bobby’s auto shop. There wasn’t a lot going on, just some routine oil changes and shit so he was set up to have a pretty easy day. He’d just finished a tire rotation for a soccer mom when Bobby rounded the corner into the bay. 

  
“Hey, son, there’s a guy out there and he’s askin’ for you by name. You got time?”

“By name?” He lowered the jack to set the van back down and wiped his hands. “Yeah, I guess. You recognize them?” 

“Nah, never seen him before in my life. Dark hair, blue eyes… got a pretty beat up Lincoln Continental out there waitin’ for ya. You want me to go tell him you need a minute?” Bobby asked, moving some empty oil cans out of the way. 

Dean wracked his brain trying to figure out who the hell that could be, but nothing came to mind. “Nah, I’m good.” He walked out into the front office, using the rag he’d been wiping his hands with to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He saw a tall, dark haired man with his back turned to him looking at some of the fliers that local customers had put up on a corkboard. “Hey, you the guy lookin’ for Dean?” 

The man turned, and Dean’s initial reaction was that Bobby’s description of his eyes was entirely too mild. The man smiled lightly. 

“Hello, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts! This will be updated Fridays.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where they meet (again)

**_Castiel_ **

Castiel had been watching from Heaven when Lisa Braeden pressed Dean about marriage. He knew that Dean wasn’t sure about it, but also knew if he didn’t do something soon, Dean was likely to agree just to appease her. He licked his lips and looked at Joshua, accidentally extending the same message to Dean himself - “It’s time.” 

Cass made his way to Earth and stopped at a junkyard after quite a bit of deliberation on the best way to reintroduce himself to Dean. He found a beat up Lincoln Continental that was in such bad shape he had to use his grace to coax it to Bobby’s shop. When he got there, Bobby tried to get Benny Lafitte to take a look at it and Cass had to quickly request Dean by name, something he hadn’t intended upon doing. Bobby had eyed him suspiciously but went back presumably to get Dean, and a few minutes later, he heard Dean speak from behind him. 

The knot of tension that had been sitting in Cass’s chest for 26 years finally loosened when that familiar voice washed over him. He turned, trying to contain his smile. “Hello, Dean.” 

Dean looked at him with absolutely no recognition on his face. “Yeah, hi. Bobby said you were askin’ for me?” 

Castiel nodded. He’d known Dean wouldn’t remember him, but it still hurt in ways he hadn’t anticipated. “Yes. I’ve heard you’re the best mechanic in all of Lawrence. I need help.”

“Yeah? Who told you that?” 

Cass was spared from answering when Benny yelled through the door that Bay 2 was clear. Dean turned, yelling back an acknowledgement and then nodded to Cass. “Alright. What’s goin’ on?” 

It was an effort to stop himself from answering that question with  _ ‘I told you I’d find you again.’  _ Instead, he rattled off a list of complicated car problems that Dean used to complain about, which made Dean’s eyes widen. 

“Damn, how’d you even get the thing here?” 

Cass grinned but wondered if he went overboard when he said the engine blew up and the transmission ‘took a shit.’ “I suppose I’m just magic.” 

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, it’s probably not that bad. I’ll take a look at it, but if it really is as bad as you say, it might take awhile to fix. I’ll look it over and get you an estimate, yeah? Just leave your info with Jo.” He jerked his head towards a blonde at the front desk. 

Cass smiled genuinely at her - he knew she died in the original timeline, and the fact that she was living and breathing in this one just furthered Cass’s resolve that he’d made the right decision. “Thank you, Dean. I look forward to hearing from you.” He walked over to Jo, leaving his name and the phone number for a burner phone he’d picked up on his way there. He watched Dean walk back into the garage and said goodbye to Jo before leaving, walking out of sight and then teleporting back to his house. 

He’d considered living quite a few different places. The bunker would seem horribly empty without Sam and Dean, and trying to find somewhere else to live with no paper trail to prove he even existed was out of the question. He was just about to give up when he remembered Jimmy Novak - the vessel he’d been in since meeting Dean originally. He had no idea if the house would be empty or if there would be a family there, but luck appeared to be on his side when he showed up at the front door and found the home vacant. He figured he’d just use his powers to manipulate anyone that came asking too many questions and moved in, spending the next few days getting himself some normal clothes and food to stock the house. He didn’t know how long it would take to get Dean back, but he didn’t want any awkward questions if he managed to get him to come over and only had one outfit and no food. 

Dean had called the day after to give him the estimate which was probably higher than what the car itself was worth, but Castiel didn’t care. He’d have paid it a hundred times over. 

A full week later, Dean called again to tell him the car was fixed. Cass waited twenty minutes and teleported just down the street, walking the rest of the way and trying to mentally prepare himself for whatever was about to happen. 

Cass opened the door and said hello to Jo, who appeared to be packing up for the day. 

“Hi, you’re…” she glanced at the appointment book, “Castiel, right?” 

He nodded. “Yes, I received a call from Dean that my vehicle was running properly again.” 

She quirked a smile at his formality and went to get Dean, who returned a few moments later looking devastatingly good covered in oil. 

“Hey, man. Seriously, you probably shoulda just scrapped that thing, but I got her runnin’ again. I thought you were exaggerating about all the issues, but damn.” Dean smiled and handed Cass his key. “There’s a couple things I should show you, though. You got a minute?” 

Cass had absolutely nowhere else to be, so he nodded. “Of course.” He followed Dean back into the bay where that Lincoln Continental was sitting. He listened as Dean told him all of the things he had to do in order to make the car road worthy again, and little tricks Cass could do to keep it running. “I wish I knew how to fix cars. It would make my life a lot easier. And cheaper.” 

Dean studied him for a moment. “Your dad didn’t teach you?” 

He shook his head. “No, um… my father never really taught me anything. It’s alright, I’m sure I can figure it out.” He smiled genuinely, knowing there was no way any version of Dean Winchester wasn’t going to take  _ that  _ bait. 

“I can teach you. I mean, if you want. I’m sure Bobby wouldn’t mind if you popped into the shop and helped me out. I doubt you’ll get paid, but I can show you the ropes.” 

Cass’s grin widened, and it was such a foreign feeling after 26 years without Dean that he was surprised his face still knew what to do. “I’d love that.” 

Dean nodded, the corners of his mouth turning down, not in sadness, but in that  _ huh  _ kinda smile. “Yeah, alright. I’m all done for the day, but maybe you could come back next weekend? We start at 8 on Saturdays. Or, I dunno what your schedule is during the week, but I’m usually here late.” 

“I think I can make something work. I’ll see you soon, Dean.” 

Cass turned to leave, and Dean spoke up again. 

“Why uhh… why wait? I’m all done for the night and was gonna head down the road to the bar. You wanna stop for a drink?” 

He licked his lip to buy himself time before turning around to face him again. “Yes, Dean. I’d love to.” 

Dean told him the address and said he’d be along as soon as he locked up, so Cass got in his Lincoln Continental and drove towards the bar, hope igniting his very bones. 


	4. Chapter 4

**_Dean_ **

When Castiel drove away, Benny approached Dean. “That sounded like a date, cher. Don’t you already got one of those?” 

Dean’s face flushed as he turned to smack Benny with the rag he was holding. “It ain’t a date, alright? I’m just helpin’ the guy out, he looks like he’s never gotten his hands dirty in his whole life and he just paid a small fortune to have me fix that damn car. The least I can do is have a drink with him and teach him a couple things.” 

Benny’s smirk cut through the air. “Oh, I’m  _ sure  _ you could teach him a thing or two, Dean. Just don’t tell that lady of yours.” 

“That’s  _ not  _ what I mean, and you know it. Get your mind outta the damn gutter.” 

“Brother, I hate to break this to you, but that tall drink of water  _ is  _ the damn gutter. The eyes, the voice… hell, I’m straight as they come, but even I wouldn’t say no after a few drinks.” Benny shrugged at Dean’s confused and slightly horrified expression. “Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m wrong.” 

Dean looked at Benny’s nose. “Doesn’t matter if you’re right or wrong, Lisa’s talkin’ about gettin’ married.” 

“Oh, so you’re  _ definitely  _ gonna fuck Blue Eyes, then. Dean Winchester gettin’ married? Not a chance.” 

He’d be lying if he tried to correct him. Marriage hadn’t ever been in his plans, especially not so young and with a girl he was barely sure he was even in love with. He’d have already left her if her son wasn’t so damn cool. But even then, Benny had a point - if anyone was ever gonna change his mind about that, Castiel Novak (yeah, he checked the receipt for the guy’s full name, sue him) was probably just as likely as anyone. “It’s just a drink, Benny. Nothin’ more.” 

“Just a drink and an offer for him to come see you here as much as Bobby’ll let you get away with. That was smooth, Dean. Even I never thought of that one.” 

“Shut up. I gotta go, lock up, would ya?” He ignored Benny’s entirely inappropriate response and got in his car, driving over to the bar. He rubbed his jaw when stopped at a red light - cuz sure, what he’d done and offered had been harmless, but was it really? Tons of guys came into the shop talking about how they didn’t know how to fix cars and he never offered to teach anyone before. Certainly never asked a customer out for a drink, either. Was it really just some kind of internal defiance after his conversation with Lisa, or was there something more to it?

He pulled into the bar’s parking lot and stopped in the space next to Castiel’s Continental. There was no one in the car which meant he was already inside, which bought Dean a few extra seconds to try and fix his hair and rub some grease off his cheek that he’d missed when he took a whore’s bath at the shop. He had no idea why he was nervous, but he was. He took a deep breath and got out of the car, walking in and scanning the room until he found the messy haired profile he was looking for. He licked his lip, waving to the bartender and taking a seat next to Castiel. 

“Hey, sorry about the wait. Benny wouldn’t shut up.” 

Eyes as blue and deep as the fucking ocean itself looked back at him under dark lashes. Dean mentally kicked himself for even noticing. “Is there anything wrong?” 

“Nah,” Dean said. “Benny was just givin’ me shit, sayin’ this was a date or some shit.” 

“Is it? A date, I mean.” 

Dean’s eyes snapped to Castiel’s. “What? No, it’s - no. Did you -- shit, did you think it was? I’m sorry, I - it’s not that I wouldn’t, cuz I would - I mean…” Dean huffed, his chest deflating. “Jesus. Hi, I’m Dean, and I swear to god I’m usually smoother than this. I have a girlfriend, her name is Lisa. I invited you for drinks cuz it doesn’t seem like you know a lot of people around here and I figured I’d better make sure you ain’t a serial killer before I let you come around the shop all the time. This is more of a meeting than a date.”  _ Christ, Dean, he’s a random dude, not Brad fucking Pitt. Chill.  _

“Ahh, I understand. I’ve killed a lot of people, but I don’t fashion myself as a serial killer.” Castiel took a sip of his drink and Dean’s mouth hung open for a moment, until he convinced himself that was just extremely dead-panned sarcasm. 

“Hell, y’know what? That works for me, I could use a hitman.” He grinned at Cass, hoping the misunderstanding about the date didn’t affect anything. 

“Something about that doesn’t surprise me.” Cass smiled back at him, and Dean relaxed. 

“Yeah. Face like this, I’m bound to get in trouble, right? It’s just science.” He wasn’t sure why he said it, or why he was suddenly scanning every centimeter of Cass’s face looking for any sign that the man was attracted to him. 

Cass’s cheeks flushed and he nodded. “Wars have been started over less, Dean. I’m quite sure your face could launch  _ two  _ thousand ships.” 

_ Did he just Helen of Troy me?  _ Dean chuckled quietly. “Good thing nobody’s linin’ up to fight over me then, huh?” 

Cass smirked with a look that Dean’s traitorous subsconscious chose to interpret as saying  _ yet.  _

__

_ Jesus, Dean. Go home to your girlfriend. Who cares how long it’s been since you’ve had a cock in your hand, or that he looks like he’d have a fucking beautiful one--- _

The bartender interrupted his thoughts and he asked for a double. Probably should’ve asked for a triple, the way things were going.  _ Who the fuck is this guy?  _

The rest of the night was full of sly, sideways smiles, lingering touches and buzzed laughter that had them leaning into each other just a little too close. More than once he forgot that he was in a bar full of people that knew him - and knew Lisa. Something about the guy just relaxed him in ways he couldn’t explain, like he didn’t have to hide or water himself down. It seemed like Castiel could handle all of him, and he suddenly started wondering if he could handle  _ all  _ of Castiel. 

All at once, that thought brought him out of his whiskey-induced haze and he stood up abruptly. “Jesus, look at the time... it’s gettin’ late. This was fun, but I gotta get goin’. Let me know when you’re gonna swing by the shop, yeah? Cool.” He didn’t wait for a response before throwing some cash on the bar for his drinks and heading towards the door, only running into a couple of chairs on his way out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines Day! Let me know what you think :)


	5. Chapter 5

**_Castiel_ **

Cass spent the next several weeks existing in an awkward state, not that this was anything new for him. He hunted as often as he could, spent a  _ lot  _ of time with Dean between the shop and their occasional after-shift drinks, and in the little bit of free time he had, he beat himself up over whether or not to just tell Dean the truth. 

He knew their profound bond was gone. Thanks to the timeline reset, Castiel never had the need to pull  _ this  _ Dean from Hell, so his claim was never placed upon Dean’s soul. But even still, he could sense an underlying connection with him whenever they were around each other that seemed to be mutual. When he’d arrive wherever Dean was, Dean would be stiff and tense, but within minutes he’d start to relax. More than once, Cass nearly leaned in and kissed him at that bar or even in the garage, but he’d remind himself that Dean was with Lisa and he needed to let Dean make this decision on his own if he truly wanted things to be different from the first time around. 

But every day, every week, every month that stretched on and Dean didn’t make a move had Castiel closer to unraveling. B0bby had long since offered Castiel a job at the shop, since he proved to be an apt mechanic (thanks in no small part to angel grace.) More than once he found himself on the brink of spilling his guts - to telling Dean everything and attempting to restore memories that likely weren’t even there anymore. He had messed with time travel a couple of times but never to this extent, and he honestly wasn’t sure whether or not Dean would even have the capacity to remember their lost lifetime together. And if he didn’t, chances were good that Dean would have him committed if he started speaking about angels, demons and a blow job on a hillside in New Zealand that quite literally changed the course of their lives. 

So he waited. Nearly a year had passed since he reintroduced himself, and living a double life was proving to be difficult. Lisa had long since broken things off with Dean, and still… nothing changed. Sure, the touches lingered for a few seconds longer and Cass was sure there was at least one instance where Dean  _ would  _ have kissed him had they not been interrupted, but they were still no closer to being together again. Coupled with that, he couldn’t stop hunting and he had an actual day job to get to, and more than once he showed up to the garage with flecks of forgotten blood peppering his shirt. Dean was starting to get more suspicious by the day and Castiel was running out of excuses. 

One night in February, Cass received a report over angel radio that there were demons heading toward Dean. He’d been working late at the shop - Dean was just one bay over - and he quickly slid out from under the car he’d been working on. His panic rose almost instantly because  _ why on earth would demons want this Dean Winchester? He wasn’t the Righteous Man, he wasn’t even a hunter. So… why? Where are they? How did they even find him?  _

He quickly punched his timecard and circled around the vehicle he’d been working on to find Dean. “Dean? You’re going to have to close up on your own tonight, I… need to go. Now.” 

A few moments later, Dean surfaced from under the raised hood of the Tahoe he’d been fixing. “Everything okay? You need anything?” 

Castiel shook his head. “Everything is fine, I simply need to go… take care of something. I’ll see you in the morning.” He turned and practically ran outside of the shop. The second he was clear of the door and out of sight, he teleported to the demon’s last known location. 

Much like 27 years ago, this too, was a trap. 

**_Dean_ **

_ What the…? Nah, fuck that.  _ Dean dropped the hood on the SUV and grabbed his keys, preparing to follow Castiel until he figured out what the hell that squirrely little bastard had been hiding the last few months. Suddenly canceled plans, showing up late to work covered in blood, never making a move even though the guy was openly gay and  _ clearly _ attracted to him. No, Castiel Novak was  _ definitely  _ fucking hiding something, and Dean was gonna find out what. He stepped outside and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Cass’ empty Continental still sitting in the parking lot where it had been since that morning. He glanced around, but the lot was completely deserted other than their vehicles. 

“Cass!” He yelled, walking around the side of the building. “CASTIEL!” 

No answer, and no Cass. He hadn’t heard another car pull up, so where the fuck did he go? He pulled out his phone and dialed Cass’s number. It rang several times and ultimately went to voicemail. He hung up and tried twice more, finally leaving a messagethe third time he heard Cass’s confused voice say, ‘This is Castiel, make your voice a mail.’ 

“Cass, it’s Dean. Where the hell are you, man? You ran outta here like your ass was on fire and now you’re nowhere to be found but your car’s still here. That’s weird as hell and I’m kinda worried about you. Call me back, yeah?” He hung up the phone and slid into the driver’s seat of his Impala after quickly locking up the shop. He didn’t know where he was going or how the hell he was gonna find Castiel, but he wasn’t about to give up nor was he just gonna sit there and hope the guy called him back. 

He drove, checking some of Cass’s usual haunts but he seemed to have just disappeared. He hated pulling the card he was about to pull, but he didn’t have another option. He pulled out his phone and after confirming one more time that Cass wasn’t going to just answer him, he called his dad. 

“Dean?” 

“Yeah, hey dad. Listen, you know I don’t ask you to break the rules a whole lot, but is there any chance you could track a cell phone for me? Cass is missing.” 

John was silent on the other end of the line for a long moment. “If he’s missing, son, you should fill out a report. Jody’s on duty tonight if you wanna head over to the station.” 

John had been a cop since before Dean was born. More often than not, that was a pain in the ass for Dean, but in situations like this he found himself grateful for it. “Dad, it hasn’t been 24 hours yet. Look, I think he might be in trouble, okay? He’s been acting weird and he took off tonight before his shift was over but he didn’t take his car and I’m pretty damn sure no one came and got him. He won’t answer me and I’m just… c’mon, dad. I’m worried about him. Can’t you just help me out?”

“What kind of trouble, Dean? You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with this guy, are you in trouble too?” 

Dean could have screamed. “If I was in the same kinda trouble, don’t you friggen think I’d know where he went? He could be hurt, please,  _ please  _ just get me his location. I promise I’ll never ask you for anything else again.” 

His dad muttered something under his breath and hung up the phone, which Dean took as a ‘no.’ He was getting progressively more worried by the minute - what if something really did happen to Cass? The guy waltzed into his life outta nowhere and now? Dean would be lying if he said he wasn’t flat out terrified to lose him. He didn’t even know why he had such a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, things like this didn’t really happen to him. Maybe it was some long-forgotten instinct, or maybe he was just overreacting. Either way, when his phone chimed a few minutes later with coordinates, he audibly sighed in relief. He plugged the coordinates into his GPS and made a u-turn, heading toward Cass’s location. He had no idea what he was going to find when he got there, but he knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that the secrets were finally gonna stop.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Dean_ **

His heart was nearly beating out of his chest when he pulled into the parking lot of the warehouse that had been abandoned since he was a kid. Whatever this was, he was pretty sure he was correct in thinking it wasn’t good. He had no weapons save for the weird looking knife Cass had given him for Christmas that year that he kept in the spare tire hatch in his trunk. He parked his car and got out, quickly grabbing the knife from the hidden compartment and switched on the flashlight on his phone. 

  
It became an effort to control his ragged, nervous breathing as he approached the door. It was ajar, so he slowly nudged it open with his foot. Dean kept the blade raised and the flashlight pointing ahead of him as he stepped inside, his ears straining for any noises that would tip him off to Cass’s location. As he walked, he started hearing muffled voices so he followed them. His mind was a battlefield of fear vs love, and it was in that moment that Dean realized he actually did love Castiel. He’d known it on some level for months, but for one reason or another, he’d been afraid to say it out loud or do a damned thing about it. And now, he was scared for an entirely new reason. 

Cass definitely wasn’t alone. He clocked at least three different voices coming from what he assumed was an old office. Dean crouched low outside the door, trying to get a feel for what was happening before he announced himself. 

“You know, Castiel… Crowley told us you were smarter than this.” 

Silence met that statement, followed by a thump and a grunt.  _ Was that Cass? _

“Oye! I’m talking to you,  _ angel.”  _

He heard Cass’s voice. “Just kill me, then. Your banter is… annoying.” Dean’s heart sank at how tired Cass sounded, but  _ what the fuck? Kill him?  _

“Nah,” another voice added. “Not yet, anyway. See, it took us awhile to work out how to get revenge on you for the whole ‘killing Azazel, starting a war’ thing, but we finally figured it out. You took something from us, and now we’re gonna take something from you.” 

Cass groaned, and it sounded to Dean like he was struggling against something. He resisted the urge to peek around the corner and see if Cass was bound, because he still had absolutely no plan to get him out of there. “I don’t have anything worth taking, Tamsin. I work at an auto shop.” 

_ Was this some kinda robbery? What do they mean Cass took something of theirs? Who the hell is Azazel? Wars? What the fuck is Cass involved in and why are they all insane? _

“Oh, but you do. Every demon in Hell knows you did all of this for Dean Winchester. Even now, you’re running around masquerading as a human just to be near him.” 

Dean was vaguely aware of Cass’s frenzied effort to break free of whatever seemed to be legitimately binding him, but there was a ringing in his ears that was drowning almost everything else out. 

_ Demons. Hell. Azazel. They know his name. Masquerading as a human. _ The words bounced around and echoed in his brain until he thought he was going to vomit all over the dust covered cement floor. He wanted to believe they were crazy, that Cass was just wrapped up in some insane, devil-worshipping cult, but something deep inside of him knew they  _ weren’t _ crazy, or lying. 

Cass was never tired. Never managed to get drunk no matter how much he drank… never got hurt, or sick. He barely ate, and when he did, he never seemed to enjoy it. He never sweat or seemed out of breath. Dean always just assumed Cass blessed with really good genes, but… the possibility that he wasn’t human was starting to make a lot more sense. If such a thing could  _ ever  _ make sense. 

He was brought back to reality at the mention of his name again. 

“He’s here, Castiel. Dean Winchester is right outside this door, listening to every word we say.” It was the third voice that spoke this time, sending a chill down Dean’s spine. 

“Run, Dean!” Cass’s insistent command reached his ears but he didn’t move. At least, not to run. He slowly got to his feet and stepped into the doorway, the blade at his side. His eyes locked with Castiel’s immediately. Yes, he was bound to a chair, and his hands were secured behind his back but Dean couldn’t tell by what. 

“Cass? What - what is all this? Who are these…”  _ people  _ didn’t seem to be the right word, but he couldn’t bring himself to say  _ demons,  _ “people?” 

The girl, Tamsin, spoke. “He really didn’t tell you, huh? All this time he was stalking you and weaseling his way back into your life, he never told you that you two already knew each other?” 

He kept his eyes on Cass’s. “I didn’t know him before I met him.” He realized how stupid that sounded, but for some reason, it also felt like a lie. Everything in his world was turning on its head, and he didn’t have a damn clue how to stop it. 

“ _ The blade, Dean. It can kill a demon. I know you’re scared and confused, but I promise you I’ll explain everything to you once we’re free. These aren’t people, Dean. They’re demons.”  _ Dean heard Cass’s voice as clear as could be, but his lips never moved once. His body jerked at the realization that Cass had somehow managed to say things  _ inside  _ of his head, and that was the wake up call that he needed. One of the male demons lunged at Dean and out of pure self-defense, Dean shoved the blade right into his chest. The demon’s eyes glowed bright and soon the rest of his body followed until the light sputtered out and the body fell to the ground. Dean barely remembered in time to pull the blade back out. 

He was still in shock from what had just happened when a blast of what felt like rock solid air smacked into him and he was flung across the room. Castiel screamed his name as Dean struggled back to his feet, and this time it was Tamsin that was coming at him. He didn’t have enough time to raise the blade before she was Force-choking him like a fucking Jedi. He was lifted off his feet and the knife slipped from his fingers, clattering onto the cement below him. He reached up blindly, scratching at the nothingness that was around his neck and cutting off his air supply. He tried to choke out Cass’s name, but all he managed was a gurgle. His legs were swinging wildly under him in an attempt to kick her in the face or do  _ something  _ that would break her concentration. Nothing was working, and Castiel was muttering something that sounded like latin but everything was becoming… distant. 

Dean was rapidly losing strength and was mere seconds from passing out when the force squeezing his throat abruptly let go. He fell hard to the ground, his ankle audibly snapping under him. The pain sent a jolt through his body but he barely noticed it, his head was spinning from the abrupt return of oxygen and the muddled realization that absolutely nothing in his life was as he thought it was. 

He was content to lay on that floor until he died, but hushed voices surrounded him and then he was filled with a warmth that seemed to lift him right out of his body. He thought he  _ was  _ dying for a second, until that warmth faded and he was abruptly thrust back into the reality of that room. The floor was cold under his cheek and the voices were no longer hard to make out. He sat up quickly, looking around the blade that he’d dropped and snatching it from the floor. 

“Dean, it’s alright. It’s over.” Cass’s voice was quiet but firm, and Dean dragged his eyes up from the ground to look at him. There was another man there now, one that wasn’t there before. All three demons were gone, even the one he’d killed. 

He swallowed hard and blinked. “Who are you?” 

The man smiled sadly at Dean. “My name is Joshua. I believe the three of us need to have a conversation.” 


	7. Chapter 7

_Castiel_

Everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. He had teleported straight into an angel trap, and within seconds, Enochian handcuffs were securing his hands behind his back. He never stood a chance, and it was all because he  _ once again  _ let his emotions regarding Dean get the better of him. 

He had thought, or perhaps just hoped, that he would be able to convince the demons to just kill him. Obviously that wasn’t ideal, but it was the best case scenario he could come up with in his mind. If he was dead, the demons would have no reason to go after Dean and Dean would be able to continue living the life Castiel had sacrificed so much to give to him. 

But, these were demons, and he had vastly underestimated Dean. Castiel knew the second Dean showed up to that warehouse. His fear and thoughts permeated the air and made a beeline straight for Castiel. He knew Dean was skeptical and had only come there to oust Castiel and find out what secrets he’d been hiding, and it took a great deal of concentrated effort not to scream into Dean’s mind to run. For some reason, Cass had still been under the impression that he could somehow find a way out without Dean ever knowing the truth. 

Obviously, that wasn’t the case, and yet again… Castiel had to watch Dean nearly die. The Enochian cuffs ensured he had no powers of his own so he did the one thing that might still save them, and called Joshua. Joshua had promised Castiel almost three decades prior that if he ever needed anything, all Castiel needed to do was call. One unchained angel versus two distracted demons wasn’t really a match at all, and Castiel began wondering why he hadn’t thought to call him in sooner. Maybe a lot of this could have been avoided. Maybe on some level, Castiel didn’t  _ want  _ this to be avoided. 

But, there they were. Dean, on the ground, looking as cornered and defensive as Castiel had ever seen him. He could tell Dean already believed the validity of what had happened, this wouldn’t be a matter of explaining the supernatural to him. He did, however, need to explain to Dean why he was so important that an angel… how did the demon put it?  _ Masqueraded as a human just to be near him.  _

“My name is Joshua. I believe the three of us need to have a conversation.” 

Dean pushed himself to his feet, ignoring Joshua. “Cass? You okay?” 

The truth was that Castiel was physically fine. The demons may have trapped and cuffed him, but they hadn’t hurt him other than an occasional kick to the shin. They knew the most efficient way to get to Cass hadn’t been violence at all, but Dean. And now, even though they were safely tucked away in the Empty, they may still get their wish. “I’m fine, Dean. They didn’t harm me. Can we go somewhere else to have this conversation?” 

Dean shook his head quickly, the blade held so tightly in his hand that his knuckles were white. “No, nobody’s fucking leaving until somebody tells me what the fuck just happened.” 

Joshua sighed quietly and stepped back. Castiel stepped  _ forward,  _ his eyes on Dean. “Nothing you heard tonight was a lie, Dean. I’m an angel of the Lord, as is Joshua. The creature that you killed was a demon, as were my other two captors.” He paused for a moment and added, “thank you, by the way. If you wouldn’t have shown up when you did, I would probably be dead.” 

Dean blinked rapidly, his eyes darting back and forth between the two angels. “So what, Heaven… Hell… all that shit’s real?” 

Castiel knew Dean already believed it, but simply needed the confirmation. “Yes, Dean. It’s real. So are werewolves and vampires, djinn and wendigos. These are things that you - a different you - used to know. And hunt, actually. You were one of the greatest supernatural hunters to ever live.” 

And this, as Castiel had anticipated, was where he lost Dean. 

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense. I’m 27 years old, I’ve never hunted anything in my whole life. You’re crazy. Angels are -- fucking crazy!” 

Joshua reached into Castiel’s mind. “ _ I’m here, should you choose to restore his memories. I’ve done some research, and I believe that they  _ **_are_ ** _ there, just simply buried. It’s possible he’s even had dreams or flashbacks already that would have been mistaken as deja vu.”  _

Castiel looked at Joshua, his chest heaving. “ _ If I restore his memories, he’ll want to hunt again. Everything that I have done up until this point will have been for nothing. How can I live with myself if I let that happen?”  _

Joshua didn’t answer right away, at least not with words. Visions of natural disasters, newspaper clippings of deaths that shouldn’t have happened, and a certain President that should never have rose to power flashed through his mind. The evidence of all the things that changed when Castiel altered the timeline. The evidence of the things that should already make it hard to live with himself. “ _ He is aware of the supernatural now, Castiel. He is going to want to hunt one way or the other, the only choice you need to make is whether or not you restore his ability to do so with any level of skill. You should know, however, that your bond is gone - telling him the truth may make him hate you forever.”  _

“I’M RIGHT FUCKING HERE!” Dean screamed. “You think I don’t know you two are talking about me? Knock it the fuck off and spit it out, I’m tired of all the goddamn secrets, Cass.”

And that was it, wasn’t it? That was what this all boiled down to. Secrets. The reason he could never break that last barrier with Dean in this life. Previously, the bond between them made Dean so trusting of Castiel that he hardly ever realized he was lying. He had always given Castiel the benefit of the doubt even when he didn’t deserve it; had always erred on the side of trust. Now, Castiel had a chance to return the favor. 

“Sit down, Dean. We can sit here and explain things to you until the sun rises, but you’ll never truly understand any of it until we restore your memories. It’s time you were told the truth.” Castiel took a moment to memorize everything about Dean. His posture, his bowlegs, the creases around his eyes from years of laughter instead of years of pain. The freckles dusting his cheeks hidden under a layer of grease from his hours at the shop that evening. The curve of his lips. Those  _ lips.  _ In the extremely likely event that Dean regained his memories and never wanted to speak to him again, he wanted to remember Dean. Maybe not like this, he’d prefer to remember him as he was those nights in the bar - huddled too close, a tipsy smile brightening every feature on his face. Whispers and soft touches that were just for Cass. Not this, the ball of confusion and anger. But, that was Dean. He was both. He’d always  _ been  _ both. And Castiel had loved him all the more for it. 

Dean sat down, still holding onto the blade that couldn’t hurt them like it was his only lifeline in the world. “Is this gonna hurt?” 

Cass smiled sadly. “Not in the way you’d expect.” He closed the distance between them, as did Joshua. Cass wasn’t sure he could do it on his own, and only bringing forth  _ some  _ of the memories would do more harm than good. Joshua and Castiel both placed hands on Dean, and Cass dove into Dean’s mind. He searched Dean’s anterior cingulate cortex where long term memories are stored and brought those forward. Most of the memories were there, hidden behind a wall that was created when Dean was born the second time. There were bits and pieces missing, but Castiel could already feel Joshua in Dean’s hippocampus calling forward the episodic memories that resided there. Dean’s body tensed and vibrated throughout the process and when it was done, Castiel stepped back quickly. 

As Dean was recovering, staring at the floor as his chest rose and fell with rapid, panicked breaths, Joshua took his leave. Castiel knew that whatever happened from this point on, he was on his own with Dean. 

So, he waited for Dean to process everything that had happened and all the memories that had just been drug out of the recesses of his mind. It took longer than Cass had anticipated, but eventually, Dean looked up. 

“Dean? Are you alright?” There was such a whirlwind of emotions radiating from Dean that Cass couldn’t seem to single any of them out. 

Dean locked eyes with his, his body still shaking. “Get out.” 

Anger. There it is. “Dean, I -” 

“I said get  _ out,  _ Castiel. Leave me the fuck alone.” Dean stood, rounding the corner of the desk and shoulder-checking him on his way out the door. 

Cass had an internal debate. Should he follow Dean, attempt to let him scream at him until he felt better? Explain why he did what he did, and why it took so long to tell him? Or should he let him go, let him work things out on his own and come to grips with the truth before Castiel tried to explain anything further? Both options had pros and cons, and neither one of them was a surefire solution. By the time he’d turned to find Dean in order to try and explain, the decision had been made for him. 

Dean was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am literally so sorry that all 4 of my WIPs are in incredibly angsty spots right now but I promise they’ll all get better soon.... well, Bind Them won’t get better for awhile, and neither will Time Won’t Let Me... but eventually! And this one will soon, and maybe if I ever kick this stupid fever I’ve had for over a week I’ll finally sit down and write this extremely fluffy one shot I’ve had in my head for months as an “I’m sorry” offering. 
> 
> Love you all.


	8. Chapter 8

**_Dean_ **

He barely spoke to Castiel over the next few weeks. That smug, lying son of a bitch actually had the nerve to keep showing up to work like he actually needed a damn job and couldn’t just angel mojo himself anything he might need. That pissed Dean off more than anything. What fucking right did he have to keep coming around like nothing happened? Like nothing even changed? Like Cass and Joshua hadn’t completely fucking killed everything Dean had ever believed in?

_ No. Not ever believed in, just believed now.  _ At the end of the day, Dean had two lifetimes full of memories in his head, and reconciling them was sometimes difficult. The initial adjustment was downright fucking horrible, he’d burst into tears the first time he saw Sam and Jess. Memories of Jessica burning on the ceiling and Sam’s body breaking apart when he tried and failed to seal the gates of Hell forever flashed through his mind on sight, and it took him a solid hour to quit sobbing enough to tell them he was just  _ so  _ happy for them. He wasn’t sure either of them bought it, but he couldn’t very well explain why he was weeping like a little bitch on their couch. 

He’d also made a point to hug his mom and dad a little tighter. He’d lost them both, twice, in his previous life. Bobby, his friend Charlie who he didn’t see or talk to nearly enough… Benny. That one was weird. Benny had worked at the shop with him for the last few years and they’d been friends but nothing like they’d been previously. So when he went to work the day after Castiel dropped the bomb on him, he’d pulled Benny into a hug that had the man trying to swat him away. He didn’t care. He might be pissed off at Cass enough to gut him, but on some level, this was a gift. He knew he’d never take the people in his life for granted again. 

Almost two months after he’d shown up to that warehouse, Castiel approached him after work. He shouldn’t even have been there at all, but Baby needed an oil change, and apparently that was all Castiel needed in order to pounce.

“Dean, I know you hate me, but please. Just… talk to me, once, that’s all I’m asking.” 

“No.” Dean started to walk away but Castiel reached out and grabbed him. 

“Please, Dean. I - if you just let me explain -” 

“Explain?” Dean ripped his arm away from Castiel. “Explain what, exactly? How you lied to me over and over again for a year and a half? How you sucked me off on a hillside in fucking New Zealand and then decided  _ for  _ me that I was gonna live my shitty life all over again cuz you wanted to feel less fucking  _ guilty?”  _

He watched as Castiel recoiled from him.  _ Good. Now he fucking knows how I feel.  _ He was simultaneously grateful and pissed that they were the only two left in the shop. He  _ really  _ needed to talk to Bobby about flipping Cass’s shift, or just firing the asshole outright. He turned once again to walk away, but this time, Cass appeared right in front of him. 

Dean had reached his breaking point. His fist connected with Castiel’s jaw before he could even process the fact that the  _ last  _ time he tried that, he’d broken every bone in his hand. This time was no different. He swore loudly and shook his hand in the air, but Cass reached out and healed him before the pain even had time to ricochet down to his toes. 

“Yes, Dean. I would like a chance to explain… all of that. And more. And, when I’m finished telling you my side of things… I’ll leave you alone forever if that’s what you want. I will leave and never come back.” 

Dean made a concentrated effort to block out the fear and pain caused by such a simple statement. He didn’t want to love Castiel, in this life or in any other, and yet he did. And it wasn’t just surface level puppy dog bullshit, it was die for him, kill for him,  _ live  _ for him love that amplified every emotion he was capable of producing. He was so angry and sad and betrayed that he could barely breathe, and at the same time the thought of never seeing Cass again hurt so badly he couldn’t even bear to think about it. 

“Fine,” he ultimately said. “You got one shot at this, Cass. Don’t fuck it up.” 

“Can we go somewhere else? My house, maybe?” 

Dean shook his head, his arms crossed. “Nope. You say what you gotta say right here, and then you’re gonna write your fucking resignation letter and leave it on Bobby’s desk before you go.” 

He watched as Castiel licked his lips and nodded slowly, seemingly accepting defeat. Dean’s instinct was to reach out and touch him, to assure him that it would be okay and they’d figure it out like they do with everything else, but he couldn’t do it. It was all just… too much. 

“I understand, Dean.” Cass cleared his throat and stood a little straighter. “I’ll attempt to keep this as concise as possible. What you have to understand is that when I met you the first time - the  _ true  _ first time, when I raised you from perdition… I was nothing but an instrument of Heaven. A tool, a… a weapon which was used to carry out Heaven’s bidding. I knew nothing of free will other than the stories that were told to me as a fledgling - it was simply a privilege given to and squandered by my father’s greatest creations. But you changed everything for me. You gave me a purpose, taught me to use my  _ own  _ free will. It was the greatest gift that anyone had ever given to me. And not only that, but you took me in, Dean. You took me in when my own family didn’t want me anymore. I fell from Heaven and fell  _ for  _ you. I watched you live, die, fight… give up and then fight again. I was by your side and you were by mine, especially after Sam died.” Dean flinched, but it did nothing to stall Cass’s monologue. “For years, you were my life, Dean. The only thing that mattered to me. And then we walked into that trap, and I took you to New Zealand. It was there that I was forced to face the truth for the first time. My actions when you were a child were unforgivable by any standards, and if I had known then what I knew in that moment, everything would have been different. I wanted better for you, Dean. You say I did it so I didn’t have to feel guilty? I’ve never stopped feeling guilty. I never will stop feeling guilty, no matter what I do or how many ways I find to make it up to you. I wanted better for you, Dean. I told you I’d come back for you, and I did. I just didn’t know how to tell you any of this, for  _ exactly  _ this reason. You’re looking at me like I’m your enemy, and I was never that. So I waited, content to take whatever you were willing to give me. And then I received word that demons were coming to kill you and I panicked. I left in an attempt to fight them off and fell right into yet another trap, and I was prepared to let them kill me in order to save you. You know what happened after that.” 

Castiel finally fell silent. Dean had watched him that entire time, searching out any hint of a lie, but there was none. All he felt coming from Castiel was a level of love and pain and loss that echoed his own. He was still angry in ways he couldn’t put into words, but all at once he was overwhelmed by a lifetime’s worth of love for Castiel. His feet carried him closer until there was no space left between them at all, and finally…  _ finally,  _ his lips met Castiel’s once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies that this is a day late, the whole world has lost its marbles and it's an awkward time to be in the healthcare field. I hope this little reconciliation makes things a bit better! Only two more chapters until the end of Part One!


	9. Chapter 9

**_Castiel_ **

His world came crashing down and rebuilt itself inside of that kiss. He knew he still had a lot of work to do to fix what he’d broken with Dean, but this was a start. There, in that garage, Dean was his again. His jet black wings extended from his back, as he no longer needed to hide them from Dean and it felt good to relieve the pressure in his back that built every time Dean was near. He never really understood it, he always assumed that his wings responded to Dean in the past because of the bond, but even without it, the feeling never went away. Cass sighed against Dean’s lips at the relief. 

“I think I hate you.” Dean’s words lost a majority of their bite when Cass felt Dean’s length pressing up against his thigh. 

“No, you don’t.” Cass growled and pushed Dean’s jacket off his shoulders, the fabric falling heavily to the ground. “You want to, but you’ll never be able to. Don’t fight this, Dean.” He removed his own trench coat and suit jacket, half expecting Dean to run away. 

He didn’t. Dean glared at him for a moment and then continued undressing himself, his movements quick and rough as he rid himself of everything but his boxers. Cass was on pace, similarly dressed as Dean closed the distance and kissed him again. 

“ _ You don’t get to tell me how I feel about you, Castiel.”  _ Dean’s teeth nipped almost painfully on Cass’s bottom lip, and one of Dean’s hands found its way to Cass’s wing. 

Castiel gasped. He hadn’t felt someone touch his wings since New Zealand, and it was every bit as intense as he remembered. His cock thickened and he shuddered as a wave of heat and pleasure coursed through his entire body. It was overwhelming and nearly brought him to his knees. “Dean…” 

“Huh,” Dean huffed, his hand fisting around the feathers near the base of his wing. “Not so high and mighty now, are ya, angel?” 

No, truth be told he wasn’t either of those things at that moment. He was a mess, a desperate, moaning mess just from a little bit of contact to his wings. He was dangerously close to letting Dean work his anger out by fucking him, but Cass had never bottomed in his existence. He wasn’t about to start then, especially when he didn’t feel like Dean had a right to be  _ that  _ angry with him in the first place. His eyes flashed with angelic intensity and his wings folded behind him, just out of Dean’s reach. “How many times have you pictured this, Dean? Hmm? Me bending you over the hood of the Impala and fucking you till you came all over that shiny black paintjob?” 

Dean growled. “So much for you not reading my damn mind, huh?” 

Cass blinked. He hadn’t been reading Dean’s mind, that had just been a guess, something he could say to regain control of the situation. But now… Cass absolutely wanted that. He pulled Dean close to him and kissed him, sliding a single hand down the front of Dean’s body until the heel of his palm was brushing over Dean’s cock. He was hard, harder even than he’d been on that New Zealand hillside. Dean moaned into Cass’s mouth, initially trying to squirm away but eventually giving in, relaxing and using shaky hands to push Cass’s boxers down. 

He stepped out of them eagerly, his cock chilled by the cold air but not losing an ounce of thickness to it. He spun Dean around and bent him over the hood of his Impala, exactly like he said he would. Dean grunted, turning his head to the side and spreading his legs. “Do it then, Cass. Fuck me already.” 

Cass brought his hand down and smacked the supple skin of Dean’s ass. “I’m going to, Dean. Believe me.” Dean jerked from the contact but immediately wiggled his ass. 

“Again.” 

“Why am I not surprised that you like being spanked, Dean?” Cass obliged, then began massaging the reddening skin. “If I’d have known you preferred things so… rough, we could have done this a long time ago.” He smacked Dean’s ass twice more, then reached under him to wrap his hand around Dean’s cock. He was already rock solid and dripping precum. Cass laughed almost darkly, his voice low and wrecked with lust. “If you like the pain of me spanking you so much, I wonder how you’ll feel about my cock splitting you open?” 

The needy little noise that escaped Dean at that moment told Castiel two things: one, that Dean was done pretending to fight for dominance, and two, that Dean Winchester absolutely,  _ desperately  _ wanted to be fucked. 

Cass was done wasting time. One hand gripped the raw skin of Dean’s ass and pulled to the side, revealing a perfect, puckered little hole, and the other he used to stroke himself as he took a moment to open Dean up with angel grace. He didn’t like the way lubricant felt or the time it took to prep a human for his considerable size, and it was a relief to know he didn’t have to. He nudged the head of his cock between Dean’s ass cheeks and pressed in slowly, letting the grace surround them both until Dean was begging Cass to go deeper. 

By the time Cass sheathed himself fully in Dean, both of them were breathing heavily and Dean’s hands were extended back, gripping Cass’s waist and attempting in vain to make him move. 

“Please, Cass… fuck, I need it, okay? I need you, now just… fucking  _ move.”  _

He thrust once, testing out just how much of him Dean could take. Dean’s back arched and he cried out, and Cass thought for a second it was too much, until Dean threw his weight forward and then immediately backward, fucking himself on Cass’s cock. Cass watched as Dean moved, watched the way his skin jumped every time his ass made contact with his own hips. He watched himself sliding in and out of the tightest hole he’d ever been in, and most importantly, he watched the sheer look of raw, unfiltered need on Dean’s face. 

He let Dean continue like that until the first time Dean angled himself properly and nearly screamed when the tip of Cass’s member found his prostate. Cass held Dean in exactly that position with one hand, pounding into him over and over again as his other hand reached below Dean to stroke his neglected, pulsing cock. Dean came apart in seconds, the side of the Impala now painted in streaks of white. 

Cass didn’t stop, he couldn’t, he was so,  _ so  _ close. “You’re so tight, Dean, so… that was… beautif- uhh--” His hips stuttered and his wings extended wide as he moaned Dean’s name and emptied entirely into the former hunter. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Dean’s back. “Are… you… okay?” 

Dean’s body was shaking and he was still pressed flat against the hood. “Yeah, holy fucking shit. I’m good. I’m… damn, Cass.” 

Castiel laughed a little, kissing Dean between the shoulderblades as he pulled out, watching with no small level of satisfaction as the cum slid down Dean’s thigh. Cass pulled him up and turned him around, kissing him and supporting his weight when it seemed like he would collapse right there. “ _ I missed you, Dean.” _

_ “Yeah, angel.”  _ Dean prayed as he relaxed against Cass. _ “I missed you, too.”  _


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's all for part one! Next Friday begins Part Two :)

**_Dean_ **

It took a few days for Dean to truly forgive Castiel for the lies. In the end, his gratitude to Cass far outweighed any negative feelings that he had, and he’d be lying if he said the sex didn’t help. He loved it, loved every damn second of Cass filling him up and splitting him in half just to somehow make it all better again. It was better than any sex he’d ever had, dudes  _ or  _ chicks, but there was still something… missing. 

He watched Cass for a moment. They’d moved back into the bunker pretty much the second they left Bobby’s garage, and Cass was busy reorganizing the weapons. They’d agreed mutually that Dean would start hunting again with Cass by his side - there was no way he could go about his normal life knowing werewolves and vamps existed, and he certainly wasn’t about to let Cass keep hunting alone. He was more or less at peace with all of it; even if things took a dark turn like they did in the timeline Cass erased, he still finally had the opportunity to live a normal life. It was great, and he was absolutely thankful to Cass for giving that to him, but he was a hunter. In that life, this one, or even the next… Dean Winchester was born to kill monsters. 

“Hey, uh… Cass? Can I ask you something?” 

The only answer he received was an affirmative grunt. 

“I know last time, our bond was created when you pulled my ass outta Hell. Do you think it’s possible to… I dunno, put it back?” 

Cass stood up and turned to face him.  _ Bingo.  _ “I hadn’t really thought about it. It was an accident the first time, but… yes, I think the same thing could be accomplished in different circumstances. Why do you ask?” 

Dean shrugged, running his finger over his nearly-forgotten 1911. “I’m just sayin’, if we’re gonna be hunting together again… the bond might be kinda helpful.” 

“Are you sure, Dean?” Cass walked closer and knelt down in front of him. “We don’t have to do this, we can hunt together without it.” 

He frowned, sitting forward in his seat. “Do  _ you  _ not wanna do it, angel? You can just tell me, I mean, I’d get why you wouldn’t want to put a claim on my soul on purpose.” 

“Don’t,” Cass whispered. “Don’t do that. I’ve wanted our bond back every single day since we lost it.” He leaned in and kissed him, and something inside of Dean relaxed. 

“Okay then, do it. Please. Now. Like… right now.” 

Castiel’s eyes widened but he nodded. “Yes, okay. Dean, it’s going to hurt, you know that, right?” 

Before Dean could even say yes, Castiel’s hand slid into his chest and a white hot bomb of sheer agony rocketed through Dean’s body. He was sure he was being torn to shreds, burned from the inside, fucking  _ disintegrated  _ \- and then it stopped. He crumpled in the chair, sweat coating his body and his breathing a struggle. Cass’s hands were still on him, and within a moment, his entire body felt numb. It was pleasant, especially after the excruciating pain of a few moments ago. 

There was something else there now, something he knew he’d been missing. It coiled in his chest and then stretched out like tendrils, searching for and ultimately connecting him to Castiel. He smiled when he reached up and felt the raised skin in the shape of a handprint on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s back.” 

Cass was looking at him like he’d never seen anything more beautiful, and at the moment, Dean assumed his expression was the same. Cass’s eyes looked bluer, his hair more adorably ruffled. Dean grinned at the fullness of Cass’s lips and the angles of his jaw. He’d seen Cass’s face a million times, but something about the bond between them brought everything into sharper clarity. 

It seemed as though Castiel was having the same realization, because he climbed onto Dean’s lap, grabbed his face, and kissed him like he was something worth losing. 

And for once? Dean actually  _ felt  _ like something worth losing. 

**_Castiel_ **

A few months later, Cass and Dean returned to the bunker after a tricky hunt involving a shapeshifter. Castiel walked to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of whiskey, returning to the map room with it and two glasses. He poured Dean a drink and handed it to him, smiling. “That was actually kind of fun.” 

Dean took the glass and leaned back in his chair, kicking his boots up on the table. He took a sip and then grinned. “See? Gettin’ down and dirty every now and then is always fun.”

“I honestly can’t believe I let you talk me into hunting something without using my powers.” He brought his glass to his lips and drank slowly, his eyes darting over the glass to Dean. 

“But you’re glad I did, right? Everything turned out awesome. I gotta say, I might have to mark that down as one of my favorite hunts of all time.” He chuckled and stretched his arms out. “Hunting with you - I felt more powerful. I dunno, I can’t explain it.”

“You mean… hunting with me when I’m  _ not  _ doing all of the work?” Cass smirked and leaned against the map table. “Yes, it was decidedly more fun. And I should point out that watching you hunt is… kind of erotic.” 

Dean raised his eyebrows, licking his lips to get the extra whiskey off. “Erotic? Like… ‘Casa Erotica’ type erotic?”

Cass laughed. “Yes, Dean. Exactly that.” He set his glass down gently, and slowly brought his eyes back to Dean’s. “Come here.” 

Dean sighed dramatically, sipping his whiskey again. “Can’t you see I’m comfortable, angel?” He grinned after a moment and eventually stood up, walking over to Cass. “I’m here. Now what?” His eyes momentarily flicked to Cass’s lips, and then back to his eyes. 

“Now… you shut up and kiss me.” Cass didn’t wait for Dean to make a move, he pulled him closer and kissed him with everything he had. Dean’s hands slid under Cass’s shirts and Cass nipped at his bottom lip. He pulled back after a moment, an easy smile on his face as he watched Dean’s eyes open after the kiss. “Do you have any idea how lucky I am, Dean? How happy you make me, even though you’re hunting again?” 

Dean tilted his head as if he was trying to think about it. “Hmm, no. I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned anything about being happy. Maybe you should tell me now, y’know… so I’m not left out.” 

He couldn’t fight the way his smile widened. He opened his mouth to respond and tell Dean exactly  _ how  _ happy he was, when something seemed to tug behind his navel and he was ripped away from Dean and the bunker entirely. 

**END OF PART ONE**


	11. Part Two: Last Good Time in Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cass tries to figure out what the hell just happened.

**_Castiel_ **

Castiel landed on a busy street corner. He stood quickly, eyes darting around wildly at the people passing him as he tried to regain his bearings. He had a horrible, sinking feeling in his gut that he’d just time-traveled, but the problem was, he hadn’t done it on purpose. On the contrary, he would have much preferred staying right where he was. He closed his eyes and tried to go back - tried to time-travel back to the future where he would be with Dean again and everything would be alright. Nothing happened. His desperation rose and he tried again, and again, and  _ again…  _ but still, nothing. Something or someone was blocking his ability to return to Dean.

In the absence of a better plan, he tried to get context clues from the area around him to try and piece together where, and more importantly,  _ when,  _ he was. He spotted a newsstand outside of a convenience store across the street and dashed over, stopping traffic and ignoring the angry honks of the drivers that had to slam on their brakes to avoid hitting him. His breathing was quick as he picked up a copy of the  _ Lawrence Joural-World  _ and scanned it for a date.  _ November 3, 1983. One day after Azazel killed Mary Winchester.  _ Panic spiked in Castiel’s gut. He had no idea how time-travel truly affected angels and demons when done multiple times. Would the original timeline play out? Or was Azazel dead? 

Castiel knew there was only one way to find out. He teleported outside the home of the Winchesters and opened his eyes slowly. The house was still in tact, there were no obvious signs of a fire. Hope sparked in his core - if there was no fire, surely Mary Winchester had survived the night. He laid low across the street, waiting for any signs of life from the house. He just needed to be  _ sure.  _ Time-travel was a fickle beast, so the lack of scorch marks and burning rubble didn’t mean she was safe - it simply meant she hadn’t burned on the ceiling. The Butterfly Effect was a very real, very dangerous thing. Just Castiel’s reappearance in this time in this town alone could affect the way Dean grew up. It could and likely  _ would  _ affect strangers, but he would be lying to himself and God if he attempted to pretend he cared about any of them. His sole concern was and will always be Dean Winchester. 

It took a full two hours before he witnessed Mary Winchester emerge from the home, a six-month old Sam in a baby carrier and a four-year old Dean at her side. He sighed with relief - Azazel was still dead. Not everything he’d worked for had been undone. 

The relief was short lived, however, when the realization came crashing down that Dean was  _ four years old.  _ Sadness crept in as he thought about living another twenty years without the love of his life by his side. Fear followed quickly, what if he couldn’t convince Dean to fall in love with him for a third time? Anger was the last emotion to work its way through Castiel’s being, but it was by far the strongest. Who did this? Why? What would anyone have to gain by bringing him back here, to this date? From separating Dean and Castiel  _ again  _ after everything they’d gone through to fight their way back to each other? 

He needed to find out, and there was only one place he could do that. He ducked further out of sight and teleported to Heaven, where he sought out Joshua. Surely he would know? 

Castiel found him sitting in the garden with his eyes closed. He seemed to be deep in thought about something or other, and for a brief moment Cass contemplated not bothering him. But this was too important, it wasn’t just himself and Dean who were thrown back in time but the entire planet. This affected everyone. “Joshua?” 

The angel didn’t open his eyes. His voice sounded tired. “If you are here to ask me who did it, Castiel, I do not know. But whoever or whatever this influence was, you should not engage it.” 

This advice made him furrow his brows. “Shouldn’t engage it? Joshua, I  _ have  _ to. Whoever this was needs to fix it, needs to put things right!” 

When Joshua opened his eyes, there was a coldness there that Castiel wasn’t used to seeing. “Why, Castiel? Because you’ve lost your human toy again? Do not pretend your concern is on a global scale. Let us not forget who drew first blood in this war. I believe it was  _ you  _ who first saw fit to meddle with time for your own gains, and now you wish to punish someone else? Do you believe  _ you  _ should have been punished?” 

Castiel fell silent. He knew Joshua was correct, and yet… he’d hoped he’d find support in his old friend. He was wrong, but this changed very little. He was still going to find out who did this and make them fix it. 

He had to. 

\---------------

The leads dried up after about five years. He’d moved back into the bunker, read every lore book and tracked down every creature capable of altering time and yet… there was nothing. No signs, no guilty parties… not even a whisper of who could have done it. There were also no more shifts in time. He received no threatening warnings or explanations. No blackmail letters or conditions of reversal.  _ Nothing. _ He’d tried Joshua again, Hannah, Balthazar and even Naomi - no one would help him, nobody knew. 

In the absence of any other real plan, he’d visited the most powerful psychic on the planet: Missouri Moseley. She hadn’t been able to tell him much, just that whatever did it was more powerful than even he was. He already knew that, of course, but the validation still settled something in him. All of this was his fault; he’d swore to protect Dean and he just wasn’t strong enough. Even though the thought had run through his head and hadn’t come out of his mouth, Missouri had smacked him in the back of the head all the same. As he’d anticipated, she’d asked him what had happened to her in the first two timelines. The truth was, he wasn’t sure what happened to her in the second. But the first? She’d been killed by a wraith and it had pained both Dean and Sam - and himself, if he were being honest - greatly to hear of it. He gently reminded her that he wasn’t able to disclose that information, and she’d nodded. She’d understood, but Castiel didn’t miss the undertones of sassy defiance in her thoughts. “ _ Boy, you’ll change all of Heaven and earth to get laid but you won’t help an old woman defend herself?” _

There wasn’t much to do after that but wait. Wait, and hope he somehow had it in him to survive the next fifteen years. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Dean**

  
“Sammy, give it back!” Dean yelled, chasing his five-year old brother across the yard. Dean had been trying to play catch with one of his friends from school when his freakishly tall little brother came in and intercepted him. He’d made Sam mad earlier, he knew that, but c’mon - there was only enough of the  _ good  _ cereal for one more bowl and he  _ always  _ gave it to Sammy. It was his turn! It was just cereal, but now his brother was being a jerk. 

Dean ran around the side of the house just in time to see Sammy throw his favorite football over the fence separating them from their creepy neighbor. Dean didn’t know much about him, but he’d just moved in like a week ago and he was pretty sure he never left the house. Not  _ once.  _ What did he eat? He looked like an adult, didn’t he have a job? How come Dean couldn’t stay home all day every day? 

“Sam!” Dean yelled angrily and then tackled his brother into the grass. They wrestled for a moment before Sam yelped in pain, and Dean immediately backed off. “Dangit Sammy, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay? Sometimes I forget you’re so young cuz you’re so tall. Please don’t tell dad!” 

The panic in Dean’s eyes must have resonated with Sam, because his little brother nodded. “It’s okay, Dean. It’s just a scratch, I’ll be okay.” 

Dean quickly grabbed his brother’s arm to check the damage. Sure enough, there was a two inch cut on his arm just below his elbow. Fear rattled through his bones despite Sam’s assurance he wouldn’t tell their dad. He’d learned the hard way when he’d taken Sammy skateboarding last year that his dad did  _ not  _ like it when his son got hurt. Dean absentmindedly rubbed at his cheek at the memory. 

“I’ll tell Dad I fell when trying to play catch with you guys.” Dean nodded at Sam’s words and turned slowly to face the fence.

“I’m gonna go see if he’ll give it back. Go inside, Sammy. Put some Neosporin on that, okay? And a band-aid, but not one of the Spiderman ones. One of the good ones.” He waited until Sam scurried back inside and then walked slowly around the fence until he was facing the front of his creepy neighbor’s house. 

“Okay, Dean,” he pep-talked himself. “It’s just a guy, he’s probably really nice, just shy. Go up, knock on the door, and ask for your football back.” He silently cursed Sam for throwing into the  _ back  _ yard, where Dean wasn’t able to just get it and run away. He approached the front steps slowly and swallowed hard, knocking tentatively after several seconds of self-doubt. “Mister? Uhh… Mister Novak? My name’s Dean, can I have my ball back?” He added hastily, “Please?” 

Silence met his request. He tried again, knocking a little more bravely this time. “Mister Novak!! It’s Dean Winchester, I live next door! My football is in your backyard, can I  _ puuuh _ lease go g--” his words cut off abruptly as the door swung open. Dean looked up at his neighbor, and his only response was a quiet “Oh crap.” 

Novak was tall, as tall as his dad, probably. And muscular, like he was one of those guys that went to the gym a lot or maybe played sports, but his long trench coat suggested he’d never played a sport in his life. Blazing blue eyes peered down at him and Dean was…  _ terrified.  _ “K-keep it, keep it Mister Novak, sir. I’m sorry I bothered you.” 

His reclusive neighbor all in all looked like one of the guys he’d seen on the magazines at the grocery store. It was weird, he had expected a hobo or something. But when the man spoke, his voice was deep and gravely like a thunderstorm, which should have made Dean even more scared, but instead… it kind of grounded him. “Hello, Dean. You may go get your football, but afterwards, I’d like you to come back here, okay? Would you like something to drink?” 

Dean shook his head a little and dashed off to get his football. On his way back, he walked slowly, his eyes glued to the front of the house that he could no longer see. Was he still there? Was he serious? Was he about to get kidnapped? 

Something told him that last part was very unlikely, so he rounded the corner and stepped onto the porch again. Despite Dean’s denial, there was a glass of lemonade on a small table next to a couple of chairs. Mister Novak was sitting in one, so Dean hesitantly took the other. He picked up the lemonade and took a sip, his face almost immediately lighting up. “Hey, this is really good!” 

Mister Novak smiled, and it changed his entire face. Dean relaxed in his chair, taking a gulp this time. “So, you just moved here, huh?” 

Mister Novak seemed to contemplate his answer. “Not exactly, Dean. I’m only here for a little while.” 

“What do you mean? How come, you just got here.” Dean wasn’t sure why, but he actually kind of liked the mysterious man and his delicious lemonade. There was something calming about him once you got past the initial shock. 

Again, the man just smiled at him. “You see Dean, I’m actually very busy. The world is full of mysteries, and I solve them.” 

Dean’s eyes widened. “Like a detective? Or the FBI?!” 

Novak laughed, and the sound made Dean’s grin widen. “Yes, Dean. Sort of like the FBI.” 

“Awesome! I wanna be a secret agent when I grow up. Or a firefighter.” His face lit up and he added, “a freaking ninja!” 

“You can be whatever you wish to be, Dean.” All of a sudden, Mister Novak’s grin faded. “Are you happy here, Dean?” 

He shrugged, not knowing quite how to answer that. “I guess. Our house is pretty cool. I miss my mom, though. My dad was a lot nicer when she was around.” 

Mister Novak suddenly looked very sad, like he’d said something wrong. “I’m so sorry, Dean. You’re such a brave little boy, I…” he trailed off, but Dean could tell there was something more he wanted to say. 

“You what?” 

“I’m proud of you. I know that doesn’t make any sense to you, but I am. You’re a brave boy and you should always remember that.” 

Dean was uncomfortable now, he’d never met this man before in his life. But still, the words… meant something, he could tell. He didn’t know what, but they did. He finished his drink and stood up. “Thanks for the lemonade, sir!” He grabbed his football and dashed back home, forgetting his encounter with the man entirely before he even stepped off the porch. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Castiel**

  
He’d wiped Dean’s memory before letting him leave. He knew if he didn’t, that encounter might be something that stuck in his head that could lead to awkward questions when they were reintroduced later in his life. He had to hope that Dean would be able to put up with whatever John threw at him, because now… it was all the more clear to Castiel that he needed to figure out who had done this to them. Setting aside the fact that he’d already tried everything he could think of, he refocused his efforts in heaven. 

He stopped down to earth as often as he could over the next several years, and as it turned out, he was wrong. This Dean was different. Not as capable of handling John, if he ever truly was in the first place. He rebelled, and more than once Cass had to step in and save Dean from himself. But between hunting the monsters the Winchesters’ were no longer taking care of and his constant search for the cause of this entire mess, he simply couldn’t be there often enough and had to settle for the knowledge that one day soon, Dean would be out of John’s life for good. 

It was Dean’s 24th birthday when Castiel finally decided enough was enough. He was still no closer to finding out who did this to them and he was nearly coming apart at the seams from being away from Dean. He’d originally planned on waiting until Dean was a little older this time around, but something about the lip piercing, bright purple hair and tattoos covering almost every inch of Dean’s body told him that Dean needed him _now._

He stepped inside of The Family Business record store and sought Dean out. He was sitting behind the counter, leaning back precariously as a barstool balanced on two legs. He had one of his own legs bent, his foot braced on the counter as he rocked the barstool back and forth, his back against the wall. He looked almost obscenely delicious with his legs spread like that, open and inviting. He realized that’s probably exactly what Dean was doing - inviting anyone and everyone in for a ride. His heart broke a little to think of all the things that Dean went through that led him here. He approached the counter and cleared his throat. 

Dean flicked his eyes up to Cass, his tongue darting out and pulling his lip between his teeth using the ring. Cass gripped the counter, desperately missing the way Dean’s lips felt around him. “Can I… help you?” Dean’s words were drawn out and sensuous, and Castiel got the impression he was in for a very long ride. 

“Yes, I was wondering if you had any Rory Gallagher albums? He was originally in a band called Taste, but he went solo. I was looking for -”

The sound of Dean clicking his tongue cut Castiel off. “Nope, never heard of him. However…” Dean leaned forward and the barstool righted itself with a loud thud that actually made Cass twitch. “I bet _you’ve_ got a thing or two I’d like to _taste.”_

Castiel’s stomach did some weird combo between lurching and flipping. Once again, he was reminded of how many things must have gone wrong for this to be the Dean sitting in front of him. His eyes flicked to his brightly colored hair and he missed the old Dean. His eyes didn’t look quite right anymore. “Oh? And what would that be?” 

Dean’s eyes quickly raked over Castiel, stripping him bare. They lingered on the AC/DC shirt and leather jacket he’d chosen in lieu of the trench coat and then traveled down to stop entirely on the bulge pressing against his jeans. Yes, Castiel seems to have chosen the correct outfit. “Go flip the open sign to closed and find out.” 

He considered not doing it. Considered walking away and coming back once he’d had time to clear his head and approach this rationally. But all rationality went right out the window when Dean slid off the barstool and bent over to pick up a pen he dropped on purpose and Cass caught sight of a pair of pink, lacy panties. 

His breath caught in his lungs, and he was grateful that he didn’t actually need the air in order to survive or he might’ve died on the spot. It had been too long, he needed Dean. He turned on his heel and locked the already closed door and flipped the sign. When he spun around again, Dean was disappearing into the back. Cass followed swiftly, tugging his jacket off before he even rounded the corner. When he did, he froze, his mouth hanging open and his cock thickening so fast in his jeans he thought it’d keep going until it exploded. 

Dean’s pants were around his ankles and the panties were split at the bottom, giving him a crystal clear view of the jeweled black plug Dean was showing off. Dean looked over his shoulder at Cass and bit his lip. “Like what you see?” 

All Castiel could do was nod and start undoing his belt. Dean waited until Cass’ cock sprang free and he whistled softly, wiggling his ass. “Bet that cock would feel so good inside of me, but unfortunately…” Dean sighed and stood up, pulling his jeans back up but leaving them unbuttoned. “I don’t fuck on the first date.” His tone was flirty and powerful all at the same time, and Cass was putty in Dean’s hand. 

“Then why call me back here? Why the plug, the show?” 

Dean laughed as he closed the distance between them and dropped to his knees, his hungry eyes drinking in every inch of Cass’ considerable length. “You’ll see. I think you’ll get a kick out of it.” 

Before Cass even had a chance to respond, Dean’s hot, glorious tongue was gliding under the head of his cock. He hissed, it’d been years since he’d been blown and the feeling was already more intense than he remembered. Over and over, Dean’s tongue licked tiny little lines over his length until Cass was getting frustrated. It was good, sure, anytime Dean’s mouth came anywhere near his cock it felt good. But he was teasing him, giving him just a taste of what he was capable of and it wasn’t nearly enough. He thrust forward a little, his hand fisting into Dean’s hair to guide him. 

This proved to be a mistake. Dean wiggled out of his grasp, glaring up at him. “Hands off the hair, this dye ain’t cheap. And stand still, I’ll let you fuck my throat soon enough. Just lemme enjoy this, alright?” 

Cass wasn’t prepared for a version of Dean that _enjoyed_ giving blowjobs. Even less prepared because he’d never _been_ blown by someone that actually enjoyed it, and it was pretty much an entirely new experience. Dean licked and sucked, bobbed and took him deep like Cass’s cock was the last good thing on the planet. It was sloppy and wet and fucking _hot_ and Castiel was a goner. His efforts to keep his hands off Dean’s hair resulted in him grabbing blindly behind him, white-knuckling the storage shelves just to keep himself upright as Dean swallowed him whole. 

Deft fingers tugged at his balls as the head of his cock slipped past the back of Dean’s mouth and into a tight, constricting throat. Cass moaned loudly, having to remind himself at the last moment that he needed to be careful not to say Dean’s name as he wasn’t yet supposed to know it. His legs were shaking and his balls tightened as he careened towards his release, but at that moment, Dean pulled off with a gasp. A hand replaced his mouth and Dean was stroking him quickly, violently - twisting his hand and licking saliva from his own lips as he bounced. _Bounced?_

Cass looked down to see that Dean’s foot was propped between his ass and the floor, and he was bouncing on it as a way to use the heel of his boot to push the plug he was wearing in deeper. His eyes snapped forward to see Dean looked blissed out already, lost in euphoria as his lace-trapped cock leaked and twitched. 

“Cum on me, cover me. Get it all over these pink fuckin’ panties, make me wear ‘em the rest of the day.” 

It was over. The thought of Dean returning to work with his cum marking his body _and_ those pretty lace panties was enough to ruin him. He came hard enough his knees buckled and he cried out as Dean milked every drop from him and watched it cover his own chest. 

The ringing in his ears was so loud that Cass didn’t even notice that Dean had finished as well. It was only evident to him by the streaks of white covering his lower abdomen and the sheer look of satisfaction covering Dean’s face. He’d cum, untouched, just from sucking Cass off and teasing himself with a plug. _How big was that thing?_

Dean stood, his movements quick as he pulled a few tissues from a nearby box and handed them to Cass. True to his word, Dean didn’t clean himself up before getting dressed again, those panties that would haunt every second of Cass’s life now hidden once more under worn out denim. 

“Yeah, thanks for your business. Stop by again sometime?” Dean ducked out of the room and he heard the bell of the front door chime as he must have unlocked it again. Cass stood there dumbfounded and at a loss for several seconds before following him out. 

  
“Can I at least get your name? Take you to dinner, perhaps?” 

Dean eyed him. “No on both counts, but I appreciate the offer. I’m serious though, you’ve got a great cock. You’re welcome back here anytime.” Dean winked and then nodded his head toward the door, officially dismissing Castiel.

He walked out in a daze without buying anything. If that’s how Dean treated all of his customers, how was this shop even still open? 


	14. Chapter 14

**Dean**

  
His best friend Charlie walked through the door as Hot Guy was walking out. He tugged his t-shirt away from his body quickly in an attempt to fan-dry the cum still damp on his chest and lower stomach. “Heya Charles, you’re late.” 

She raised her eyebrows. “Dean, the door was locked and you still haven’t given me a stinkin’ key. Although, judging by the state of you two... I’m glad you didn’t.” 

He grinned, flicking his thumb over the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, he was good. I might actually be disappointed if he doesn’t come back around.” 

“Did you get his name… his number? Anything?” 

Dean shook his head. “Nah, he’ll either be back or he won’t. I’m not gonna lose sleep over it either way.” 

Even as he said the words, he knew they were a lie. Yeah, he’d had his fair share of guys and girls alike in that back room. But even with the plug action he managed to get from his boot, he couldn’t believe he actually came from suckin’ the guy off. That was _definitely_ a first. Usually he needed to jack off while he was doing it, and even then sometimes he didn’t make it to the finish line. Something about that guy was off. Different. The kind of different people ruin their lives over. _It’s a dick, not life, Dean. Don’t take it so seriously._

Whatever Charlie was saying went in one ear and out the other as he realized he was actually standing there in the middle of the shop he’d bought with his father’s life insurance money wearing cum-crusted lace panties and a shirt that was sticking to him in all the wrong places. He was gross, in more ways than one. Dean bet his father would be _real_ fuckin’ proud of him right about now; the fuck up with more body mods than he could count anymore covered in some stranger’s jizz. Well, at least John Winchester had to hate him from afar now. Shame Dean couldn’t say the same for himself. 

_Fuck, this is not the time to drop._ He always recognized the signs. He’d done this enough times to know that more often than not, the drop always came but usually he’d make it home first and crawl into his bed until it passed. He had most of those thoughts on a regular basis anyway, but they were always… worse, when he let a stranger use him like that. 

“Dean!” 

His head snapped toward his fiery best friend. “What?” 

She looked concerned, and he hated it. He hated pity. He chose this, he did it to himself, he didn’t deserve pity. And he was just gonna do it again, whether it was with the insanely hot guy with blue eyes and a cock that made his mouth water just thinking about it or the next halfway decent looking scumbag that walked into the shop. Just _once_ he’d like to make that offer to someone and have them say no. To have someone ask him out _before_ he became personally acquainted with how their dick smelled after an orgasm. 

“DEAN!” 

“Fuck, sorry, Charlie.” He always got spacey during a drop. “One more time?” 

“Will you please just drink the damn water I put in front of you ten minutes ago?” 

Ten minutes? How long was he inside of his own head? Sure enough, there was a bottle of water sitting on the counter in front of him. He hated water, preferred just about anything to drink _but_ water, but he knew Charlie was just worried. She was all too familiar with Dean’s drops, and that fact alone made Dean hate himself just a little more. 

He never let her help, though. Never let anyone help. The strangers always left and he’d be damned if he let someone else deal with a mess he made himself. _Mess._ That word bouncing around in his brain just brought him back to the reality of the situation. “I gotta go, Charlie. You handle closing up today?” 

She opened her mouth like she was going to argue, like she was going to try to convince him to stay or let her do one of a hundred things she’s offered to do after his little back room rendezvous. It wasn’t her job and Dean wasn’t her problem. He wasn’t anyone’s problem. “No, Dean. That’s fine. Will you just text me when you’re home safe, at least?” 

He didn’t answer her, but he didn’t have to. That was the one thing he _always_ made sure to do. And that was just because she’d break down his door if he didn’t. He grabbed his things and practically ran out to his car, only belatedly realizing that stupid fucking plug was still in his ass. 

He obviously wasn’t going to go back inside or take the damn thing out in the middle of the parking lot, so he rode home with it pressing into him uncomfortably. It did nothing for his mood except ensure that it tanked fucking _completely._

Rationally, he knew he was hungry. He knew he should eat something, chug a bottle of water and scrub himself raw in the shower before finally succumbing to sweet unconsciousness in his bed. But all of those things sounded like they were going to take more energy than he could muster in a hundred lifetimes. His limbs felt like jelly as he climbed the stairs to his shitty apartment and when he closed the door behind him, he didn’t even bother taking off his boots. 

Seven steps it took him to get to the couch. Seven agonizing, long steps which caused the plug to shift in ways that triggered levels of self-hatred inside of Dean he hadn’t even known were possible. With defiant tears pricking in his eyes, he shoved his pants down far enough to remove the bastard thing and chuck it across the room. It hurt like hell, he was over sensitive as it was and that thing wasn’t small by anyone’s estimation, but at least it was out. That was one thing he did for himself at least, even if he was ignoring every single other piece of the Dean Winchester’s Self-Aftercare Handbook. Fuck it, if he couldn’t even manage to care about himself, how could he ever expect anyone else to? It was better this way. He shot a quick _home_ text to Charlie and collapsed on the couch, hugging a ratty throw pillow to his chest as he curled in on himself and willed his thoughts to shut up long enough that he could go to sleep. 

It was a long, long battle. 

But he won. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have an extra chapter today.

**Castiel**

  
It took Cass three full weeks to work up the courage to go back to that record store. He was determined to do something different this time, to handle things differently. He’d never win Dean back by being the guy that he was the first time. 

He tentatively stepped through the door, and Dean’s eyes lit up when he saw him. Cass took that as a good sign and walked over to the counter. “I’m looking for a rare piece of history, I’m not sure if you’d have any, but… a bone album?” 

Dean grinned that cocky, delicious smile of his and his tongue darted out to play with his lip ring. “Dunno what that is, but I’ve got a  _ bone  _ you can have.” 

Cass fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Are we going to start off every encounter with me asking you about music, and you answering with a sexual pun?”

“Probably.” 

He lost the fight against rolling his eyes. “Bone music originated in Russia. Western music was illegal in the Soviet Union, and the answer turned out to be bootleg records pressed onto discarded x-rays. There were roughly a million of them made, and I’ve been looking for one for the last several years.” 

Dean looked impressed. “I’d never heard of that, but it’s fuckin’ awesome. I’m definitely gonna look into finding some, so if I do, I’ll let you know.” 

“I would appreciate that,” Cass smiled. This was working out exactly as he’d hoped. “Would you like my number so you can call me when you find them?” 

“Nah,” Dean said, and it completely derailed Cass’ plan. “Guess you’re just gonna have to keep comin’ back, huh? And speaking of which…” Dean trailed off and looked around the shop, which was empty save for one teenage girl in the hip-hop section. He unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them down just far enough to give Cass a glimpse of the smooth, emerald green panties he was wearing. “I could tell you liked what you saw last time.” 

The panties disappeared as Dean fixed his jeans, and Cass’ resolve went with them. “I did, Dean. Very much so.” He took a step forward and lowered his voice. “They’re not quite the right shade to match your eyes, but I’m sure you still look exquisite in them.” 

Dean nodded. “You’re goddamn right, I do. Wait till this chick gets her tonedeaf ass out of here and maybe I’ll show you.” 

“No.” This time it was Cass’ turn to flip the script. “As much as I enjoyed our last encounter, and how much I’m  _ sure  _ I’d enjoy this one… I’m going to pass.” 

Something like shame and hurt crossed Dean’s face. He kept his eye on the girl in the corner but his voice took on a sharper tone. “What, suddenly I’m not good enough for you? Fuck off, then.” 

Cass sighed, exasperated already. “Dean, that is  _ not  _ what I said. I simply don’t enjoy having casual sex, and yes… I slipped up last time because you are truly beautiful and I can’t really be blamed for not being able to resist you, but…” he shrugged, not particularly wanting to go into more details. 

“But what?” Dean pressed anyway. 

“But I’d prefer to actually take you on a date, not -” Cass’ eyes flicked to the girl who was moving closer in the aisles. “Not just repeat what happened last time.” He’d originally been trying to give Dean his number under the guise of the bone vinyls, but if he had to be more direct about it, then fine. He could do that. 

Dean’s confused look told him all he needed to know. “Why the hell would you want to bother going on a date when I’m  _ telling  _ you that you can fuck me right here, right now for free?” 

Cass was actually annoyed at the implication. “Because not everything is about sex, Dean. I want to know things about you, like how you choose the color of your hair or who your favorite band is.” 

“Le --”

“Led Zeppelin, I know that.” 

Dean frowned. “And how the hell did you know that?”

_ Because I’ve loved you for longer than you can imagine.  _ “Because Led Zeppelin is the greatest band of all-time, and you obviously have good taste in music despite your lack of knowledge about Rory Gallagher and anti-KGB bone music.” 

“Yeah, okay, but that still doesn’t explain why you’re trying to date some random fuck up from a record store instead of just taking the free orgasm and moving on with your life.” 

Cass refused to backtrack. “Does it matter, at the end of the day? The point is that I want to see where this goes, you’re interesting and I won’t apologize for wanting to know more about you.” 

The girl seemed to have finished her search, because she came up to the register and stood awkwardly with an arm full of CD’s until Cass moved aside. He kept his eyes on Dean as he completed the sale, watching the way his jaw flexed and his muscles moved under his shirt. Dean might have a completely different personality this time, but some things never changed. No matter what modifications he made to his body, Dean Winchester would still be the most beautiful human being he’d ever meet. She left the store, and Dean pulled his lip between his teeth without looking at Cass. 

“Look,” Dean said. “I don’t date, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been thinkin’ about your cock since the last time you were here. Just cut the chick-flick bullshit and flip the goddamn sign, okay? I wanna know what it feels like to have you buried inside of me.” 

Cass fully intended on saying no, on sticking to his guns and waiting until Dean agreed to go on a real date with him. The problem was that his brain and body were no longer working in tandem, and before he even fully registered what he was doing… he was flipping the sign to ‘closed.’ 

_ Maybe just… one more time.  _


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm impatient. Have the rest of part two :)

**Dean**

He stripped slowly once they were safely hidden in the back room, making sure Cass had a clear view of the hard muscles and soft curves his clothes had hidden. This time would be different, he was breaking his own rule by letting Cass fuck him but god _damnit,_ the guy’s cock felt so good stretching his mouth that he’d break every rule ever created just to feel it do the same thing to his ass. 

Dean wasn’t wearing a plug today, but that was fine. He knew he could open himself up quickly enough while blowing Cass to get him hard, it was something he’d done many times before with other people. 

But Cass, apparently, wasn’t other people. When Dean went to slide out of his panties, Cass gripped his hands and spun him around. 

“What’s the rush, Dean? If this is all you’ll ever let me have, I want to take my time. Fuck you properly.” 

Dean kinda thought getting fucked ‘properly’ meant cutting out the bullshit foreplay and just doing the damn thing, but the words died on his tongue as Cass swept him into a kiss and pressed their mostly naked bodies together. 

It was slow and sensual, the kind of kiss you’d expect with someone you love after a night of whiskey and slow dancing, _not_ in the back room of some random record shop with a stranger. Dean was powerless against it though; his body responded to the intimacy in a way that frankly offended him. 

Cass pulled back from the kiss but remained impossibly close as smooth hands made their way down Dean’s body. “See? I feel you, Dean. I feel how your body responds to me, let me take care of you.” 

Soft lips danced across Dean’s jaw and down his neck, and fucking _goosebumps_ erupted on his skin as Cass went further down. He gripped the desk behind him and bucked his hips forward, which earned him a narrow-eyed stare from the man now squatting fully in front of him. Dean bit his lip and looked toward the ceiling - nobody had a right to have sex hair like that until _after_ the damn sex. 

Warm, expert fingers curled around the waistband of his panties and methodically worked them down, teasing both of them with the back and forth movements that revealed what was underneath so slowly it was almost enough to drive Dean insane. When his cock finally sprang free, he was already half-hard, and he attempted to push himself away from the desk so he could turn around. 

Cass’s forearm braced across his pelvis and held him down as the other pulled the panties completely off. “No. I need to know how you taste, Dean.” 

Before the words could even sink in, Cass was flicking his tongue under the head of Dean’s cock. He let out a little yelp, for all the sex he had, he rarely got his dick sucked. Mostly everyone preferred that _he_ be the one to complete that little act, not the other way around. 

Cass’s mouth drew him in completely and Dean risked a glance down, which proved to be a mistake. His cock throbbed at the sight of Cass with his cheeks hollowed out and those insanely bright blue eyes locked on his own face. “Fuck, jesus christ.” 

His jaw dropped open in a breathy moan as Cass took his entire length into his mouth, the tip pressing for entrance into the man’s throat and gaining it easily. Hands smacked at his ankles and Dean spread his legs without even knowing he was doing it. 

The warmth of Cass’ hot mouth left him completely and he whined, swearing under his breath as he looked down. “Why’d you stop?” 

Cass simply smiled and slid two of his own fingers into his mouth, sucking them greedily. Dean nodded his understanding even as the realization threatened to turn him to jelly. Seconds later, his cock was once again sheathed in Cass’ mouth but this time, the pad of a slender finger was teasing between his legs. He felt so good from the blow job that there was almost no resistance as Cass guided that finger into him, he was relaxed and happy and -- he sucked in a breath as a second finger stretched him open, his knuckles turning white against the desk. 

“Fu - uuuck, Castiel. Yeah, just like that. Faster, go faster.” 

Dean rocked forward, his cock sliding messily in and out of Cass’ mouth as the man listened and worked him open a little faster. It was a weird rhythm to find with the opposing motions, but somehow they did, until Dean was about to burst. 

Cass seemed to sense it, because he pulled off and out with heavy breaths. “Turn around, Dean.” 

He spun immediately, dropping his chest to the desk and not giving a shit about the things he’d knocked off in the process. He wiggled his ass and spread his legs, looking over his shoulder. “Fuck me, Cass. There are condoms and lube behind you, hurry the fuck up.” 

Dean pressed his cheek against the smooth wooden desk and tried to relax again as he heard Cass shuffling behind him. He instinctively knew his hand would get smacked away if he tried to touch himself, something about Cass’s earlier look conveyed that fully, so he didn’t. A few moments later he heard the pop of the lube bottle opening, but instead of being split open by a gorgeous, thick cock, it was Cass’s fingers again. 

He squirmed, rocking back against them which caused Cass’s middle finger to bump against his prostate. Dean hissed and his cock pulsed in the air. “C’mon, Cass. I’ve waited long enough.” 

“Be patient, Dean. I like to be rough, but I don’t want to hurt you. Do me the kindness of allowing me to make sure you’re truly ready.” 

A third finger stretched him further, and Cass’s overly polite tone was almost enough to make Dean uncomfortable. But his cock had more control than anything else at that moment, and the thought of Cass fucking him into the desk too fucking enticing to argue. “Yeah, yeah. Go for it, whatever you need man.” He wiggled backward, assuming he had at least that much freedom and he did. Cass allowed him to fuck himself on those three perfect digits until he was moaning like a pornstar, his chest flat against the desk and hands fisted in his own hair. 

“Beautiful, Dean. Your body is so responsive, so eager… I think you’re ready.” 

Dean let out a desperate plea and Cass pulled his fingers out. He heard the sound of the lube bottle again and then he _finally_ got what he wanted. As his hole expanded to let Cass’ considerable width in, Dean was grateful Cass took the time to prep him so fucking thoroughly. 

He moaned and cussed, and Cass kept moving until he was fully seated inside of him, which punched the air right from his lungs. 

“Dean? Are you alright?” Cass slid his hands up Dean’s back and gently rubbed his skin, and Dean nodded against the wood.

“Yeah, fuck, I’m great. Just… big.” 

Cass hummed. “And yet, I fit so well inside of you, Dean. I could stay just like this, buried deep and not even moving. You feel so good.” 

It was hard to argue with that logic. Cass was by no means the biggest he’d ever been with, but _fuck_ if the curves and lines of his cock didn’t fill him up completely. It was such an oddly comforting feeling despite the faint burn that Dean thought he could fall asleep just like that, his own cock leaking and forgotten. 

Castiel must have noticed him legitimately starting to drift off, because he was brought back to reality by that perfect, beautiful, gorgeous dick leaving his body completely. Dean pushed himself up on instinct. “Wha-”

He was pushed back down and Cass thrust back in. “Patience, Dean. I simply wanted to make sure I still had your full attention.” 

Dean’s words once again died in his throat as Cass started to move with rapid, shallow thrusts. It wasn’t enough, he wanted him deeper, faster, _harder,_ but it still felt good enough that Dean no longer gave a shit what happened to him. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that when Cass finally let him cum, it would be the best orgasm he ever had. The blowjob had just edged him, prepared him for the all-encompassing feeling of having Castiel inside of him. He whined as Cass’s length filled him again and again, relaxing him until he was completely pliant. 

That last little shift when Dean gave up all control seemed to be what Cass had been waiting for. He slammed into Dean, rocking again and again against his prostate until Dean was sure he’d cum untouched for the second time. It was hard and almost brutal the way he was getting fucked, his upper body jerking with each thrust and rubbing against the wood. “Fuck! Cass, I’m --” 

A strong hand wrapped around his cock and gripped the base, and Dean felt his looming orgasm heading in the opposite direction. He cried out as Cass shifted, relentlessly pounding into him until Dean’s body felt like a string pulled too tight. 

“Remember this, Dean. Remember how you feel right now, with _my_ cock splitting you open and _my_ hand controlling your orgasm.” 

As if there was _any_ chance Dean would ever forget this. Heat and lust pulsed through him like the wave after an atom bomb and he was sure his bones would ignite at any second when Cass finally relinquished his grip. 

Cass pulled Dean up until their bodies were flush and fucked him deep; his left hand splayed over Dean’s chest and his right hand jerked Dean’s cock almost violently until he was spilling all over the desk. Cass fucked him through it until the aftershocks faded and Dean went limp in Cass’s arms, but that didn’t last long. Something in his brain told him Cass hadn’t cum, and that wasn’t a thing Dean was okay with. He pushed backward until he could pull himself off of Cass and spun, dropping to his knees and pulling the condom off of Cass. He looked up to see the man looking just as fucked out as Dean felt, so taking him in his mouth felt as easy and natural as breathing. Cass’s hands gripped Dean’s hair near his scalp but let him choose the pace. His legs were shaking under Dean’s hands and that spurred Dean on, he sucked him off sloppily until Castiel cried out and came in his mouth. 

Dean swallowed every drop and stilled, holding Cass’s cock loosely in his mouth until he felt it start to soften. He pulled off, kissing his thigh and then stood. “That didn’t take long, maybe I shoulda just let you keep fucking me.” 

“No, I can’t get off with a condom on. I’ve never been able to. If you wouldn’t have switched, I’d have finished in the shower later.” 

Dean frowned. “That’s not even a little bit fun. Good for me, though. I’d have been heartbroken if you’d have left here without cumming for me after you handed me the best orgasm I’d ever friggen had.” 

Cass laughed quietly as he handed Dean his own undershirt to clean up with. “Does this mean you’ll finally agree to go on a date with me?” 

“What?” Dean blinked, there’s no way he’d heard that right. Sure, Cass had been pretty adamant about it, but they’d had sex. He didn’t think he’d ever understand why Cass wanted more when Dean was perfectly fine giving him his body whenever the hell Cass asked for it. “You still wanna go on a date?”

He nodded. “Yes, Dean. I do. And if you say no, I’m afraid I’m going to have to quit coming here at all. I can’t seem to resist you, but I knew that first day that simply having sex with you occassionally wouldn’t be enough for me. So… say yes.” 

Cass looked like he was serious, and Dean wasn’t in a position to argue further. “Yeah, okay. One date.” 

“Thank you.” 

They dressed in relative silence and finally exchanged phone numbers before Cass left, agreeing to meet at a restaurant not far from the record store the following night. After the door closed behind him, Dean spent a long time staring at the new contact on his phone. He didn’t know how he knew it, but he _knew_ that nothing in his life was going to be the same from that moment forward. 

And weirdly, he was ready for it. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Castiel**

Cass was a nervous wreck getting ready for his date with Dean. He’d hunted earlier that day just to take the edge off, but he was irrevocably torn. On one hand, he wanted to come clean to Dean and tell him everything… give him back his memories and wait out the anger. On the other hand, he already felt like he’d waited too long to do so and that Dean might not forgive him this time. 

He could trust that they were as made for each other as he’d always believed and just… ride things out until Dean fell in love with him again. Sure, this Dean was edgy and colorful and… pierced, but it was still Dean. Cass knew without a shadow of a doubt that he’d love any version of Dean unconditionally… but would every version of Dean love him? So far, things looked good. The sex was phenomenal, Dean had agreed to go on a date with him… and yet… letting this relationship develop on a lie would be repeating the same mistakes that got them in this mess to begin with. Not to mention, he needed Dean’s help. The  _ real  _ Dean… the one with a hunter’s instincts and the mind of a killer. Not the Dean that owned that record shop and let strangers fuck him just to feel something. He still never found out who reset the timeline, and if he didn’t figure it out… it could happen again, and he’d have no warning, since he still didn’t understand why it happened the first time. Nothing drastic had changed in the state of the world… no catastrophes were averted or caused, no one notable lived that should have died or vice versa. There was seemingly no reason to reset the timeline, which made Castiel wonder if maybe it wasn’t done on purpose. Maybe it was some sort of cosmic aftershock from his own reset. If that was the case, there was a possibility it was a one-time thing. Could he handle this Dean forever? Would Dean  _ stay  _ like this forever? Or was this just a phase Dean was going through… that he’d grow out of when he finally found someone to love him the way he always should have been loved? 

There were too many questions and not enough answers. Too many variables to even try to make an educated guess. All any of this served to do was ensure that by the time Castiel showed up to the restaurant for his third first date with Dean… he was wound tighter than a violin string. 

He found Dean standing outside of the restaurant in skin-tight jeans, his bright purple hair shinier in the light of the sun. Dean was worrying at his lip ring and glancing around the parking lot like he was about to get caught during a drug deal. When Dean’s eyes landed on Cass, however, he relaxed. 

Cass took this as a good sign and closed the distance between them quickly. He smiled warmly at Dean and reached out to open the door for him. “Hello, Dean. I’m glad you came.” 

Dean took on a cocky expression and took a step inside the door. “Always happy to cum for you, Castiel.” 

They made their way inside and waited to be seated, and Cass found himself grateful that he was incapable of blushing. It was strange, reconciling this Dean with the Deans he’d known previously. He was used to reserved, shy Dean in this regard - at least with men. He’d never been particularly quiet or filtered when it came to women… but men were a different story. This Dean was bawdy, crude… and apparently unafraid of who knew it. 

The hostess came and led them to a table, taking their drink orders and handing them each a menu. Cass didn’t need to eat, but once again, Dean didn’t know that. He ordered something simple, and when Dean ordered a double bacon cheeseburger, Cass couldn’t hide his grin. 

“What’s so funny?”

Cass shook his head. “Nothing, Dean. I just… your choice in dinner is comforting.” If he expected Dean to do anything but look at him like he was an alien, he was sorely let down. 

“Yeah, whatever. So, uh… here we are. You got me on a date. What’s the big deal?” Dean leaned back in the booth, splaying out his legs under the table and no doubt stretching those jeans to their limits. Cass could practically hear the threads screaming. 

“It’s not a big deal, Dean. I want to know more about you, and while the sex was…” he trailed off, clearing his throat and sitting up a little straighter. “I wanted more.” 

“Uh huh.” Dean spoke as if that was  _ still  _ the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “Okay, what do you wanna know? I’m 24, my mom’s dead, my dad was a fucking asshole and  _ also  _ dead… my brother Sammy’s way smarter than me but hasn’t spoken to me in two years. I like getting fucked and wearing panties… and I own a record store. I live by myself in a shitty apartment, I drive the most beautiful car to ever exist and my entire life is basically a midlife crisis. Wanna get married?” 

Cass’ heart sank at the mention of Sam and the flippant way in which Dean said they hadn’t spoken. He’d expected the rest, but that came as a bit of a shock. He fought back tears as he tried to grasp onto the one part of that speech that wasn’t painful. “Vegas isn’t that far from here.” 

Dean was squinting at him. “Dude, are you  _ crying? _ Over  _ my  _ life? What the fuck is that all about?” 

“Nothing, I’m… allergic to onions,” Cass replied stupidly.

It looked like Dean was about to argue further, but their food arrived. Cass was grateful for the quick service and took the opportunity to take a bite of his salad… which had onions in it. He huffed, hoping Dean wouldn’t notice. 

Whatever Dean had been about to say was lost in favor of the double bacon cheeseburger. Dean moaned at the taste which caused the hairs on the back of Cass’ neck to stand up in response as a shiver went down his spine. 

“That good, hm?” 

Dean nodded, hungrily taking another bite much too large for his mouth. Ketchup dripped down his chin and Cass reached over on instinct, flicking the red mess from his face. Dean stopped and cleared his throat. “I don’t need you to take care of me. I’m not some damsel that needs saving, y’know… I get by just fine on my own.” 

Somehow, Cass understood they weren’t talking about condiments. “Yes, Dean. I know that. I’m not looking to save you, although would it be the worst thing in the world if we saved each other?”

Defiance flashed in Dean’s eyes. “Dude, you gotta knock it the fuck off with this shit. You’re being weird as hell, and yeah, it’d be horrible because I  _ like  _ my damn life. It’s the way I want it, and if you think you’re gonna waltz in here and get me to change… you might as well hit the fuckin’ road, Jack.” 

Cass squinted. “My name isn’t Jack. Dean, are you feeling okay?” 

Dean stood up, abandoning half of his cheeseburger. “Alright, I’m out. This was a fun little experiment, but this shit right here is  _ exactly  _ why I don’t fuckin’ date. Dinner’s on you, thanks for that. Oh, and uh… Winchester Records is closed… to you, specifically.” 

He was out the door before Cass even knew what happened. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Dean**

Dean kicked his feet up on Charlie’s coffee table and took a drink of his beer. “Yeah, I don’t know what kinda mental issues that dude has, but I don’t want ‘em and I don’t need ‘em.” 

“I don’t get it, Dean. You were crazy about this guy… you were so excited for the date. Tell me again what happened?” 

“He’s a fuckin’ weirdo, Charles. You shoulda seen him, I thought he was gonna start cryin’ like a bitch when I was talking about my past. He didn’t understand a “hit the road, Jack” reference… I dunno. Something just doesn’t sit right with me.” Dean shrugged passively and took another sip of his drink. 

Charlie wasn’t having it. “Okay, so the guy isn’t a fan of Ray Charles and he cares about you. Weird, sure. But I’m not hearing a dealbreaker here.”

He scowled around the neck of his beer. “I don’t date. End of story.” 

But, it was never the end of the story with Charlie and that’s why Dean hated her almost as much as he loved her. Okay, maybe not even close to almost as much as he loved her but it still irritated the shit out of him. She gave him her best bitchface. “You’re scared he might actually give a crap about you and you’re self-sabotaging.” 

Dean rolled his eyes, but the gesture was defensive, not dismissive. “Doesn’t matter anyway, I scared him off.” 

Charlie got up and snatched Dean’s phone from next to his foot. He made no move to stop her. “Hah! You have his number. Call him and tell him you’re sorry for being a jerk and that you want a second date.” 

“Yeah, no. Not gonna happen. Thanks for playing, though.” 

She let out a frustrated growl and started typing, so he leaped across the couch to try and get his phone back. She held it just out of reach until he heard the  _ whoosh  _ signaling that a text had been sent, then handed it back with a smug expression. “You’re welcome.” 

There, in three little words on the screen… read  _ ‘I’m an idiot.’  _

“Fuckin’ seriously, Charlie? An idiot?” 

She shrugged unapologetically. “It’s not like you gave me the time to type him a love poem, Dean. I got the point across.” 

Dean’s scowl deepened and he sunk back into the couch. “Awesome.” 

It was twenty full minutes before he got a response, and when his phone chimed, he dumped the bowl of popcorn he’d just sat down with all over the floor. Okay, maybe he didn’t wanna be done with Cass. 

**Castiel:** _ You’re not an idiot, Dean. I screwed up. I had a long day, I’m sorry for not catching the Ray Charles reference and for getting upset when you mentioned your brother. I lost a brother of my own, that’s all it was. I understand if you don’t want to see me again, but I would very much like the chance to do our date over. _

He read the text twice and couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. “Okay, he’s not a weirdo. He’s just tired. That… that happens, right? People get tired and their brains don’t process shit correctly?” 

Charlie sighed dramatically. “You’re welcome.” 

He texted back that maybe he’d be okay with that, and this time the reply came a lot sooner. 

“He uh… wants to see me again. Tomorrow night.” 

“And?! Tell him yes!” 

Dean stared at the phone and couldn’t bring himself to do it. Yeah, Cass was good. Too good, certainly too good for him. All he’d end up doing is getting his heart broken or disappointing Cass or a horrible combination of the two. He ghosted his fingers over the keys to make it look like he was responding and closed the message thread out without sending a word. “I did. No worries, Charles. You saved the day.” He tried to grin at her despite the fact that his chest was unreasonably tight. He hadn’t even said no, for fuck’s sake. He just hadn’t responded. 

“I’m really proud of you, Dean. Seriously. This is character growth for you.” 

He laughed, a stuttered, almost bitter sound. “Don’t be. It’s just a date.”  _ Figures, the one time someone’s actually fucking proud of him… and it’s over a lie.  _

Charlie didn’t stop grinning the rest of the night, and Dean couldn’t shake the feeling that he was making a mistake. 

Cass didn’t text again. 

\--------------------------

The following day, Dean opened the shop and his mood was in the gutter. He’d barely slept, hoping by some miracle Cass would’ve called or texted again,  _ something  _ to show he was invested enough not to take silence as an answer. But nothing came, and Dean convinced himself that Cass didn’t actually give a shit one way or another. 

One of his regular  _ customers  _ came in that afternoon, and Dean half-heartedly told him to flip the sign. Once upon a time, he’d have been happy to see him - Benny was a great lay, and always ended up spending a metric shitload of money in the shop - but he just wasn’t feeling it for some reason. 

Either way, he found himself getting roughly fucked up against the shelves containing the fucking cleaning supplies Dean hardly ever touched, but at least Benny always had the decency to use a condom. He was sore this time, Benny was used to Dean being prepped and ready to go but he hadn’t bothered that morning. Not even to get himself off. Dean came, but it was… lackluster. Boring. Thoroughly fucking unsatisfying. 

Dean blamed it on those blue fucking eyes. Sure, Benny’s eyes were blue, too… but that almost accentuated how fucking wrong they really were. Benny’s were baby blue, light and cold like ice, whereas Cass’s were blue fucking sapphires that smacked you in the face and  _ made  _ you pay attention to them. They commanded respect and uncovered all your secrets. 

True to form, Benny spent almost $300 in the store on various albums and obscure memorabilia. That alone was worth it, even if he felt a little bit like a whore when he finally left. 

He tried to keep himself busy the rest of the day, finally using some of those cleaning products he’d pretty much forgotten about until he’d had to hold onto them so the force of Benny’s thrusts ramming his body against the shelves didn’t knock them over. He texted Charlie, called around to find out more about bone music, reorganized the entire hip-hop section, and  _ still  _ couldn’t get Cass off his mind. 

Yeah, Dean Winchester had it bad. 

And that was  _ bad.  _


	19. Chapter 19

**Castiel**

Dean never responded to his request to take him out again. He said he was up for it but when Cass tried to confirm an actual date, Dean went radio silent. Cass waited days, hoping Dean just got exceptionally busy and would respond when he could, but it never happened. He thought about texting him again, but didn’t want to wait around for another response that might never come. No, if he wanted an answer, he was going to have to go get an answer. 

He paced in the parking lot of Winchester Records. This was it, either he got back in Dean’s good graces today or he was afraid he’d lose him forever. Yet again, he battled with himself over whether or not to just tell Dean the truth, but in the end, he decided not to. He didn’t want Dean’s past feelings clouding his judgement… either this version loved Cass too, or he didn’t. He could live with the secret. 

Dean eventually stuck his head out the door. “Cass… I’ve been watching you pace for almost an hour. You know the front wall is glass, right?”

He blinked stupidly, of course he’d noticed… “Oh. Um… right. Can I come in?” 

“It’s public property, Cass. Sign says ‘open’ and everything.” Dean stepped aside but held the door open for him, and Cass reluctantly walked in. 

Cass hadn’t rehearsed enough possible speeches for this yet, he wasn’t ready. It wasn’t like it was his entire  _ world  _ on the line or anything… 

“What are you doin’ here, Cass?” Dean walked back around the counter and leaned against it, fixing him with a stare that was practically daring him to answer incorrectly. 

“Ah, straight to it then. Of course.” Cass cleared his throat, not having a damn clue where to begin. “You never responded to me.” 

_ Good. Yes, good. Turn it around on him in your opening argument. Excellent, if this fails, you can become a lawyer.  _

Cass wasn’t quite sure where his internal monologue learned sarcasm, but he supposed it was a byproduct of being on Earth for so long. 

Dean shifted his weight and traced an indecipherable shape on the glass countertop. “Yeah, well… to be fair, I didn’t text you the first time, either. It was my friend Charlie.” 

“Ahh.” Cass wasn’t sure what else to say, which scared the hell out of him. He was barely in the door and the situation was already getting out of his control. “Did you send the one about maybe being okay with seeing me again?” 

“Yeah, that one was me.” 

“Oh.” Cass shifted on his feet. “You close soon, right? 

Dean checked the clock and chewed on his lip, looking like he was fighting an internal war. “Yeah, it’s close enough though if you wanna just flip the sign.” He stepped around the counter and jerked his head toward the door to the back room. “I haven’t gotten off in days, I’m not gonna say no to a cock like yours.” 

“No, Dean. That’s not -” Cass closed his eyes and let out a breath through his nose. “That’s not what I came here for. Please.” 

When he opened his eyes again, Dean was standing right in front of him and looking… hopeful. “It’s not?” 

Cass reached out to touch Dean’s face, shaking his head. “No, it’s not. I told you I wanted more and I meant it. Let me make our first date up to you… we can go wherever you want.” 

Dean caged his tongue between his teeth for a moment and then nodded. “Can we go to your house? I’m not… not really in the mood to go out tonight.” 

That was better than Cass expected, and he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Cass only saw one problem with this… he didn’t have a home. He’d been staying in the bunker again, and he was almost afraid that taking Dean back there would trigger memories he didn’t want Dean to regain. But what choice did he have? He could try Jimmy Novak’s house again, but if it  _ was  _ empty, there would be no food or water, it was probably covered in dust, and he’d have a lot of awkward questions to answer. Bunker it was, then. “Of course we can.” 

Dean locked up the shop and followed Cass back to the bunker. He didn’t show any signs of recognition when they entered, but he  _ did  _ look a little scared - like he all of a sudden thought Cass might be a serial killer. 

“This place belonged to my… father,” Cass lied. “I just recently moved in, I’ve been trying to go through some of his old things. He was a bit of a fantasy fan,” he added as Dean headed straight toward a stack of lore books. He clenched his jaw as Dean flipped through the pages, but Dean still didn’t seem to remember anything. 

“Yeah, looks like your dad was a nutjob, Cass. Guess we’ve both got daddy issues, huh?” 

A laugh fought its way out of Cass’ chest. “I suppose you could say that, yes.” 

Dean ran his hands over the table that  _ should  _ bear his initials and let out a slow breath. “Weird or not, this place is kinda comforting. It’s got a homey vibe, y’know? Like anyone that walks in here is just automatically at home.” 

Yet again, Cass felt tears welling up in his eyes and blinked them back quickly. “I apologize if this is forward of me, but I’m glad you feel at home here. You’re welcome to stay the night, if you’d like.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Casanova.” 

Castiel frowned, thinking Dean forgot his name again. He’d done some research after their last conversation and discovered the Ray Charles song, and maybe this was one of those scenarios. “Are you hungry?” 

The kitchen wasn’t currently stocked, but that wasn’t an issue. Being an angel had its perks. Dean nodded and his tongue darted out to tease his lip ring, which distracted Cass for several seconds longer than it should have. Cass then disappeared to the empty kitchen and returned a couple of moments later with a sandwich and a beer for Dean. 

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” 

Cass shook his head. “I ate before I came to find you tonight. I was… stalling.” 

He studied Dean then, and noticed how tired he really looked. “Are you feeling okay, Dean?” 

Dean took a couple of bites of his sandwich and chewed hastily, greedily, like he hadn’t seen a proper meal in a couple of days. “Yeah, I’m just tired. Long hours, insomnia… the combination can be a real bitch.” 

“Sleep here then, seriously. The beds are comfortable and no one will bother you.” 

Dean’s jaw began working slower and he set the remainder of his sandwich down. “It uh… doesn’t matter. I don’t sleep very well on my own, I wake up from nightmares all the time.” His cheeks flushed like that was the most embarrassing thing he’d ever said. 

It wasn’t news to Cass. 

“I’ll stay with you.” It wasn’t an offer or a question, it was a fact. He knew enough about all of Dean Winchester’s incarnations to know that he’d never accept offered help - but he wouldn’t turn it down if he wasn’t given wiggle room. 

“Okay.” The word came out quiet, and Cass knew it was probably an effort for Dean. He didn’t fuss about it or continue discussing it, he let Dean finish his food and polish off the beer and then the two of them made their way to Cass’ old room. Dean didn’t exactly have pajamas and Cass didn’t have anything to lend him, so he stripped down to his boxers and Cass followed suit. 

A few awkward moments of being on separate sides of the bed later, Dean rolled until he was pressing up against Cass’ side. He didn’t say a word, and neither did Cass - he simply wrapped his arm around Dean and planted a soft kiss to the back of Dean’s purple mop of hair. 

Dean was snoring within minutes. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Dean**

It was the best damn night of sleep he’d ever had. No nightmares, no waking up at the slightest noise ready to stab an intruder. Nothing but warmth and comfort and  _ rest.  _ Cass’ eyes were closed when Dean woke up so he slid out of the bed slowly and searched for the bathroom. For a place as big as the bunker, it was surprisingly easy to find - almost as if his feet knew where to go. Dean chalked it up to that homey vibe, but when he looked in the mirror… he didn’t recognize himself. 

His face had more color in it than normal and his eyes didn’t look quite as sunken in. If he looked this much better after just one night, he’d look positively  _ healthy  _ if he stuck around for a month. 

His pulse quickened at the thought of staying with Cass for a month. A week ago, he’d have laughed himself hoarse at the idea, but now? Cass had fed him, comforted him, hadn’t even tried to have sex with him the night before. He was gorgeous and kind and had a fucking _glorious_ cock. He seemed to actually wanna be with Dean for… _Dean_. He suddenly found himself thinking that he could do worse, _has_ done worse… and maybe he should quit fighting Cass so hard. 

“Dean?”

“Huh?” Dean turned quickly, he hadn’t heard Cass come in. Cass looked beautifully disheveled, his boxers crooked on his waist and his hair sticking up at odd angles. Dean was overwhelmed by an entirely foreign feeling, one that felt  _ way  _ too powerful for the situation. It made him uncomfortable, but also… hopeful? Like maybe he wasn’t as broken as he thought. The onrush of feelings was probably just a side effect of burying any and all emotions he’d ever felt since he was a kind. Kinda like a leak in a dam that gives way to a flood. It’d even out eventually… right?   
  


“Are you alright? You’ve been in here for awhile.” Cass stepped forward and then there were warm, safe hands running over Dean’s bare skin. He was hit by a vision that felt a helluva lot like deja vu, involving those same hands on him in this same bathroom. His breath hitched, and Cass pulled back. “I’m sorry, Dean, I… shouldn’t have done that.” 

Dean cleared his throat and moved forward, pulling Cass’ hands back to his body. “Just feels… good.” 

Dean wasn’t sure who leaned in first, but they were kissing. Lazy, longing kisses filled with roaming hands and flushed skin. It wasn’t the usual heat of foreplay that he was used to, this felt… different. Like they were just two guys that actually fucking meant something to each other. It scared the shit out of him and also… grounded him. 

Cass pulled back first, not far enough to create any real distance but far enough to speak. “Thank you for staying.” 

He buried his face in Cass’ neck, biting softly at the skin. “Mmhm.” He kept going, darting his tongue out to taste the man’s skin. He was infinitely better at sex than emotions, but maybe he could find a way to express one using the other. 

“Come back to bed with me.” 

Dean grinned, sliding his hands down to grip Cass’ ass. “What, shower sex too complicated for you?” 

“No, I simply want the opportunity to enjoy you  _ thoroughly…  _ without worrying about customers or the water running cold.” Cass’ voice dropped an entire goddamn octave and Dean was definitely, absolutely not going to complain about letting Cass take all the time he wanted. 

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” They made their way back to the bedroom and Cass closed the door behind them, throwing them into complete darkness. Dean nearly tripped on the bedpost, but Cass’ strong arms reached out and grabbed him. “What, no lights?”

Cass leaned in and kissed him, and Dean could  _ swear  _ his fingers where fucking sparking as they made their way down Dean’s body to push down his boxers. His entire body shuddered and he wrapped his arms around Cass’ neck, falling back onto the bed in a motion too fluid for it being so hard to see anything. 

Something about it felt… hypercharged. Like there was something just out of reach, and if Dean looked just a  _ little  _ harder, it’d smack him right in the face. “You uh… don’t have a Zorro mask by chance, do ya?” 

The mouth around his nipple pulled away. “A  _ what?”  _

“Fuck, nevermind. Go back to what you were doing.” Dean squirmed, attempting to blindly guide Cass’ head back down. 

Cass let out a breathy chuckle. “Make sure you get the  _ full effect  _ this time, hm?” and as Cass trapped his nipple between his teeth and reached down to stroke his cock, Dean flashed back to a grassy hillside in New Zealand where he’d said those exact words. 

“What? I liked the kiss, wanted you to do it again. Sue me for being cheeky.” Dean gasped as Cass suddenly bit down hard and pulled off entirely. 

“What did you just say?” 

Confused, Dean tried to push himself up onto his elbows. “The hell are you talkin’ about, Cass? I was talking about that first time you kissed me, back in New Zea-” He froze, he’s never  _ been  _ to New Zealand, certainly not with Castiel. “Whoa, that must’ve been some dream.” 

Cass’ weight disappeared from the bed and a moment later, the light flipped on. “It wasn’t a dream, Dean. What else do you remember?” 

He was looking at him with such intensity it was almost frightening. “Cass, I -” But he  _ did  _ remember things. Lots of things, weird things. “This wasn’t your dad’s bunker. It was mine.  _ Ours, _ ” he corrected. 

And suddenly, all of Cass’ weird tears and incessant pursuance of him made sense. He was pretty sure he didn’t remember even half of what was missing, but at least now he knew something  _ was  _ missing. 

Cass. Cass would  _ always  _ be the thing that was missing from him. So many things were clicking in his head, he felt like a smartphone redownloading a backup. It wasn’t  _ new  _ information, technically, but there was so much and all of it coming in at once that he was overwhelmed. 

“What? How?” was all he managed to get out. 

Cass shook his head. “I don’t know, Dean. Maybe being back in the bunker? I’m not going to complain, I’ve waited… so….” 

Dean cut him off with a kiss. A  _ real  _ kiss, one that absolutely conveyed every strange and weird emotion flowing through Dean at that moment. His head hurt badly from the influx, but seconds later, the pain was gone. 

All of his pain was gone. 

And then… like some cruel, cosmic joke… so was Cass. 

**END OF PART TWO**


	21. Part Three: Time in a Bottle

**Gabriel**

“Those infuriating little  _ fucks.”  _

Raphael sighed heavily from where he was sprawled out on Heaven’s throne. “Truthfully, Gabriel, I can’t  _ fathom  _ why you care so much. So the traitor and the human fell in love, move on with your life. Father only knows that  _ I  _ did.” 

Gabriel shook his head, still seething as he watched from Heaven as Mary Winchester prepared dinner for her two young sons. “I can’t do that, Raph. When Castiel reset the timeline, he screwed me - and  _ not  _ like I was getting screwed in the Casa Erotica days. I can’t believe you of all people let him get away with it.” 

“Has he, though? Think about it, Gabriel. Open your tiny, trickster little mind and see the bigger picture, here.” Raphael waved his arm lazily through the air. “He’s suffered for what, twenty, twenty five-odd years every time things reset?”

He considered this, and while it was true… it wasn’t enough. Something happened to Kali during that initial reset. They’d been so in love he’d left his porno days behind… and then one day, she didn’t recognize him. Nothing he did worked, and the more he tried to convince her, the crazier she thought he was. The fact that Castiel managed to make Dean remember not once but  _ twice  _ already boiled his blood. But not this time. This time, he’d changed things up. Sure, Castiel loved the Righteous Man enough to search for him over and over again, but did Dean feel the same about him? He’d bet his entire stash of Skittles that the answer was no. 

Raphael noticed Gabriel getting lost in his own head. “What did you do  _ this  _ time, little brother?” His voice was honeyed lightning, and despite the fact that Gabriel knew Raphael would never hurt him, he still tensed from the current ruler of Heaven’s tone. 

“Cassie’s up here with us. In Heaven’s prison. Naomi is… doing a little experiment for me. And as for Dean…” Gabriel shrugged, as if he wasn’t ashamed in the slightest of his newest temper tantrum, “he’ll grow up thinking his memories of Castiel are nothing but the product of an overactive imagination. Let’s see how in love they really are when Cass has no memories and Dean’s too chicken shit to ever make a move.” 

His brother leaned forward, every inch of his posture commanding. “What  _ kind  _ of experiment?” 

Gabriel licked his lip and squirmed as Raphael attempted to invade his thoughts. “Exactly the kind you think. She’s burying Castiel’s memories so deeply that he’ll  _ never  _ remember who he really is. And, when the time comes to put his ass back on earth… he’ll think he’s a human. I’ll throw together a fake life for him and finally…  _ finally,  _ I’ll get my revenge.” 

“This is petty, Gabriel. Even for you.” 

He stuck his tongue out defiantly. “Ahh, whatever. I’m sure it’ll stick this time, Deano already lived his best cockslut life, I bet he’ll be back in full gay panic mode anyway.” 

“Why didn’t you simply wipe both of their memories? Or better yet, just kill them?” It was clear that Raphael was just about out of patience, so Gabe started walking toward the door. 

“Simple,” he said. “I want them to suffer the way they made  _ me  _ suffer. Can’t do that if they’re dead or neither one remembers what they’re missing.” 

Raphael tilted his head and looked at him contemplatively for a moment. “I’ll stop you eventually, you know that. I’m letting you have your fun for now, but eventually… the show must go on, whether or not those two insignificant little gnats are alive, dead, married, hate each other… they’re no longer my concern.” 

Gabriel nodded once and ducked out, afraid to say anything further. 

\-----------------------

The worst part was the waiting. Gabe had to be careful with Dean’s memories, he wanted to break the guy’s heart, not put him in a looney bin. So he watched as Dean grew up, making sure Dean would recognize Cass when he saw him in person again, but wouldn’t grow up thinking he was supposed to be having sex with a fully grown man. 

It had been a couple of years since he’d checked in, so he grabbed himself some popcorn and looked down from Heaven to where Mary was tucking a six year old Dean into bed. 

_ “You brushed your teeth, right?”  _

_ Dean nodded, pulling the blanket up a little higher. “Yes, and helped Sammy, too.”  _

_ Mary smiled and leaned in to kiss her son’s forehead. “You’re such a good helper, baby. And don’t worry, I already checked the closet for monsters. All clear.”  _

_ “Oh, I stopped being afraid of monsters a long time ago, Mommy.” Dean smiled proudly then, a tiny little thing that barely pursed his lips.  _

_ She brushed a stray piece of hair from his face. “That’s good, you shouldn’t be worried. You have angels watching over you.”  _

_ “No, not angels,” Dean dragged out the word like he was enunciating the plurality. “Just one, I think.”  _

_ “What do you mean, sweetie?”  _

_ Dean sat up a little in his bed and reached over to open the drawer in his nightstand. He pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper with two giant wings drawn in black crayon. “I see him sometimes, in my dreams. His wings are soft, and they keep me safe and warm.”  _

_ She blinked at the page and then studied her son’s face. “What’s his name?”  _

_ Dean’s expression changed to something sadder. “I don’t know. It’s like when you  _ **_know_ ** _ a word, and can’t remember it. It’s right on the tip of your tongue but won’t come out.” He traced the outline of the wings with his finger. “But his eyes are blue. I see those too, sometimes, but it’s mostly the wings.”  _

_ Mary’s attention shifted to the drawings Dean had plastered over his walls, and now that she looked closer at them… almost every single one of them had a pair of black wings or a face with bright blue eyes. “How long have you been dreaming about him?”  _

_ He shrugged, setting the paper back in his nightstand. “Always, I think. But usually when I’m having a really bad day. He makes me feel better. Like nothing in the whole wide world can hurt me, because he’s an angel and he’ll always be around to protect me.”  _

_ “Well then, I’m grateful to this mysterious angel. But baby, if you ever need to talk about a bad day, you know I’m here.”  _

_ Dean yawned, a squeaky, drawn out sound that had him stretching out and then settling back down like a cat. “I know. G’night, Mommy.”  _

_ She kissed his head again and stood up. “Goodnight.”  _

Gabriel bit his thumbnail and continued to watch as Mary left the room and Dean started praying. He didn’t remember Cass’ name, so chances were good that Cass wouldn’t hear him, but still. He couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe he’d underestimated them. 

The worst part? He’d dealt with them often enough the first time around that he’d known better. You  _ never  _ underestimate the Winchesters,  _ or  _ their angel.

And now he’d fucked around and done both. 

\-----------------------

Two decades later, Gabriel decided to put his plan into motion… again. Naomi had worked wonders on Castiel, although it took way longer than planned or expected to make him forget about Dean. For the better part of the first 15 years, Cass had fought back, begging to be let go so he could go to Dean. Gabriel almost caved more than once… he wasn’t a monster, he was just… hurt. But every time he’d think about calling Naomi off and setting Cass free, he’d remember the look on Kali’s face when he had begged her to remember him. So, Castiel had remained in Heaven’s jail and Naomi got to perfect her craft. 

But Cass was now ready, and so was his new identity. Dean was fully grown and hadn’t mentioned the angel from his dreams in years. The trap was fully set, and it was high time to spring it. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Dean**

His alarm went off entirely too early. He groaned, reaching over to fumble blindly on his bedside table until he managed to silence it, and for the millionth day in a row, he cursed himself silly for taking on a second job. 

It’s not like he needed it. Things at the autoshop were good, he was single with no kids, and managed to find a decent house for dirt cheap thanks to the last market crash. He’d taken the job a few years back when most of that wasn’t the case, but he’d fallen so in love with the atmosphere and customers that he’d stayed anyway. 

After reminding himself of that at least three times, Dean pushed himself out of his bed and shuffled toward the shower. It was still dark out, but that was the nature of working at a coffee shop that opened at an  _ unholy  _ hour. 

Dean was still half asleep as he scarfed down a couple of barely toasted Eggos and a cup of too-hot coffee. He shook it off, blaring music in his Impala as he made his way over to Deja Brew and when he got there, he unlocked the door with a yawn. 

He busied himself getting the place ready to open and pulled on his stupid green apron, tying it deftly behind him as his co-workers started to arrive. 

“Morning, Deano.” 

“Yeah, hey boss. Nice of you to finally join us.” Dean grinned and snapped his towel at Cole’s thigh as Jo skirted past him to set up the register. 

Cole rolled his eyes and walked toward the back office. “I hired you so I didn’t  _ have  _ to be the first one in.” 

Dean chuckled quietly and turned to watch Jo open the doors. “Anything good goin’ on today?” 

Jo shook her gorgeous blonde head. “We’ve got a new kid starting today, but not until the afternoon. He’s still in high school.” 

  
  


“Ah, well lucky me, then. I get out of training duty for once.” 

“More like lucky Kevin, he doesn’t have to deal with  _ you _ .” She stuck her tongue out playfully at him as their first customer came in. 

The morning passed without much incident, they had one dickbag get all pissy because he put eleven shots of vanilla in his coffee instead of ten -  _ I mean, really… what the hell is the difference at that point?!  _ But the very next customer had been one of their regulars, so it was okay. She was the sweetest old lady, and Dean was fast and easy with the harmless flirting because it made her smile. 

But just as he was gathering his things and getting ready to leave, his heart fucking stopped. He dropped the Americano he’d made himself for the road and it splashed all over the ground, soaking the feet of the guy that had just walked up to the counter. 

The world went quiet as he stared at the angel that used to watch over him. It was him, there was no doubt in Dean’s mind. The blue eyes, the crazy hair… the jaw. He subconsciously looked for wings behind the clean, tan trench coat, but found none. “H-he-llo.” 

The man’s eyes dropped to the nametag on his apron. “Hello.... Dean. I hope you won’t be charging me for the coffee I’m taking with me on my Oxfords, I assure you… I didn’t order it.” 

Dean couldn’t breathe. That voice… the coat… his chest constricted and a headache blossomed quickly as memory after memory flooded into his mind. 

_ It’s Cass. That’s fucking Cass. I’m not a barista, I’m a fucking hunter. And he’s an…  _ “Angel?”

Cass looked at him like he was nuts, and then turned to Jo. “You  _ won’t  _ be charging me, right? I was coming in for a hot tea with honey, not…” He glanced down at his soaked shoes and Dean hurriedly grabbed some napkins from behind the counter and then dropped to his knees in front of Cass, cleaning off his shoes. 

_ He doesn’t remember me. Just like I didn’t remember him. Fuck, what the hell is going on?  _

“Here you go, sir. I’m so sorry about that, Dean normally isn’t so clumsy.” Jo handed him the tea and added quickly, “It’s on the house.” 

A soft hand ran over Dean’s hair and he slowly brought his eyes up Cass’ body to his face. He probably looked wrecked, like he’d just found out he was adopted or something. “S-sorry, Ca--”  _ Fuck.  _ He cleared his throat to cover up the fact that he shouldn’t know his name. “Sir. Sorry, sir.” 

Being this close to Cass’ junk was bringing back all sorts of  _ other  _ memories, and it became even harder to suck in air. He was drowning on dry land, and no one was going to save him. 

“It’s alright, it’s just been that kind of a day. I’m starting at a new firm this morning and I swear, everything that could have gone wrong, has. I’m sure your misfortune here is probably my fault.” 

Dean stood, shaking his head a little. “No, no. This was my fault, hundred percent. Come back tomorrow morning and I’ll have your tea ready with… no coffee bath, yeah?”  _ Please come back. Please. Or else I’m gonna have to commit a crime bad enough to need a lawyer.  _

Cass smiled, and Dean melted into a puddle at his feet.  _ Christ,  _ how did he survive this long without that smile? “Thank you, Dean. I think I will. In my experience, first impressions often aren’t the best. I’ll be expecting you to put your best foot forward tomorrow… or, at least your best tea.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Course. See you tomorrow.” 

Dean hurried out of Deja Brew with his apron still on and no coffee for the day, but he didn’t give a shit. Cass was back, even if he didn’t remember him. Dean just had to figure out how to reach him. 


	23. Chapter 23

**Gabriel**

Sometimes, when a plan goes right… it goes  _ really  _ right. Watching that moronic Winchester dump his drink all over Castiel was the highlight of his century. What a noob. 

He was still watching Cass when Raphael entered behind him. “You’re laughing like a hyena, Gabriel. It’s upsetting the fledglings.” 

He turned to look at his brother with an accusatory expression. “Since when do you care about the fledglings? Are you Heaven’s babysitter all of a sudden?” 

“Do I need to be?” Raph raised an eyebrow and looked down at him disapprovingly. “Word is that you’re acting like a child again.” 

Gabe grinned cheekily. “Nope, still just the same instance as last time we had this little talk. Just took about twenty years to get things where I wanted them to be. Now, I can sit back, relax… and watch them pay for what they did.”

“Gabriel, it’s been what… three-quarters of a century already? Surely you must be bored of this by now. Move on, do something else with your life.” 

He dismissed Raphael with a wave of his hand. It wasn’t a surprise that he didn’t understand, Raph had never been in love. He’d never lost something so devastating. And even if he had, his brother was the type to kill the transgressors immediately and move along, not plot out long, twisted revenge. 

Raph just had no imagination, that’s all. And if there was one thing Gabriel was  _ not  _ lacking in, it was imagination. He’d plotted about a million different ways to get back at the Two Stooges, and some of them had been incredibly intricate, Oscar-worthy plots. But when you’re trying to strike a deep blow, one that will utterly ruin your opponents… sometimes simplicity is best. 

Not that any of this was simple. It had required an immense amount of grace, decades of diligence, and more patience than he thought himself capable of. He’d also already failed twice, because those giant morons were soulmates or some shit.  _ Which shouldn’t even be possible because Cass doesn’t  _ **_have_ ** _ a damn soul.  _ Gabe blamed it on the profound bond, even though the damn thing didn’t technically exist anymore. 

How those two had managed to fall in love three separate times now was beyond him. The first two times he hadn’t had much control, but last time? Last time shouldn’t have happened. But his mistake had been letting his brother be the one to keep his memories, and he  _ didn’t  _ make the same mistake twice. Now that Deano was the one with the ball in his court, things should be smooth sailing. After all, it took a botched hunt and Cass  _ still  _ making the first move after about a billion years in their true timeline, and now, Cass didn’t know him at all. If their original bond wasn’t enough to get Dean talking, no way he’d tell Cass how he feels now. 

Gabriel wasn’t a complete asshole, though. With Castiel out of commission and Dean once again lacking the skills needed to carry on the family business, Gabe had been spending his free time hunting monsters and saving lives. It was a new feeling for him. He typically stayed out of the affairs of humans and creatures unless directed by Heaven, but this was his mess and he wasn’t the type to see people come to unnecessary suffering. 

So, he set out again, this time to ‘solve’ the case of a few missing kids. He was pretty sure it was a lamia, and those things were so close to unholy that it  _ should  _ have been heaven’s job anyway. Gabe had no problem killing humans if needed, but children were sacred and he took it as a personal offense when monsters started picking them off. 

Sure as shit, he found the creepy little bitch trying to abduct a child and his father. A lamia would only need a grown man for mating purposes, and that was  _ another  _ thing Gabe took personal offense to. Sex was beautiful and incredibly fun, it’s not meant to be tainted in that way. 

The lamia scratched and clawed at him which he found more amusing than anything, and he made quick work of smiting the creature and wiping the memories of the boy and his father. He watched them for a moment, pleased with himself that thanks to his actions, they’d live to see another day. 

_ Now, back to our regularly scheduled program.  _

He paced around his small room in Heaven and contemplated how to screw with them. There was still a chance that they’d find they’re way back to each other… even if Cass never regained his memories, Dean was still a catch and no amount of reprogramming in the world could make Castiel  _ not  _ attracted to him. So, he just needed to make sure they didn’t have that opportunity, right? The initial damage was done. Dean remembered fully and was face to face with Castiel again, and now he just needed to keep Cass away. But  _ how?  _

Cassie wanted tea in the morning… what a  _ shame  _ it would be if Deja Brew somehow completely ran out of it. 

Gabe snuck down to the small coffee shop after they closed with a mischievous grin on his face. He pranced around the stockroom, vanishing or ruining their entire stock of tea leaves. “Aww, what’s wrong, Deano? Pretty angel doesn’t want to come back a third time because you’ve already disappointed him twice?” 

Looking around, it occurred to him that it would be a little suspicious that only the tea was missing. He wasn’t sure that they’d buy some sort of tea-bandit, but he needed to make it look at least  _ sort of  _ convincing, so he moved all of the remaining tea underneath a rusty looking pipe and mojo’d a hole in it. The water gushed down, drenching the boxes with untreated well water. By the morning, there would be no way any of that was usable and now he’d made it look like an accident. He grinned to himself as he triple-checked to make sure he didn’t miss any, and then zapped back up to Heaven to wait for the fallout. 

This was going to be easier than he thought.


	24. Chapter 24

**Dean**

Panic was an understatement. How the hell was it possible that  _ every  _ fucking tea bag and leaf in Deja Brew had been ruined?! On the  _ one goddamned day  _ he actually needed tea! 

“Who the hell even moved all of it over there?!” 

Jo shrugged. “Maybe the new kid? Who knows, it wasn’t like that when I left yesterday.” 

Dean’s heart sank. It seemed stupid to be crying over soggy tea leaves, but this was  _ Cass.  _ They’d already been through so damn much, and if Cass was going to react the way that Dean had previously… he needed to be careful. He needed that fucking tea. 

He waited on a few of their early morning customers as Jo drew up a “Sorry, No Tea Today” sign to hang by the register. In between, he Google mapped distances to other local shops wondering if he’d somehow be able to go get Cass a cup of tea from somewhere else and bring it back before he got there, but fate wasn’t fucking having it. The only shop close enough didn’t open until 10, which was too late. 

Dean fidgeted behind the counter and tried to figure out the best way to explain what happened and keep Cass coming back. He just needed  _ time…  _ maybe he’d understand and still come back tomorrow anyway?  _ Fuck.  _

The bell on the door chimed and Dean whipped around to see his angel walking through the door, his eyebrows pinched as his gaze immediately focused on the sign. 

He walked up to the counter and pointed at it. “It seems the universe is against my tea addiction.”

_ Fuck! Do something!  _ “Uhh… no worries, I have something I think you’ll love, if you’ll allow me to go a little off-book.” Dean’s mind scrambled for something to actually back that up with as he tried to smile encouragingly. 

Cass tilted his head, “It’s fine. Maybe I will try one of these pastries instead, do you have apple?” 

  
  


Dean knew damn well he ate the last apple one the second he walked in. He was aware he looked constipated, but he was fucking this up all over the place and didn't know how to stop. "We don't, but I can... ahh shit. Just hold on, let me get your drink, I'm sure I have something good to put in your mouth."

It took several seconds of them blinking at each other before Dean realized what he'd said, and his face turned such a deep shade of crimson it was unreal. "I'll uh... yeah. Don't move." He raced into the back and looked through what they had left. He spotted a bag of Geisha coffee on the top shelf. He knew he shouldn't, that was their only bag of the stuff and they were saving it for famous people and politicians and shit... but Dean couldn't give a rats ass about them. He snatched the bag and came back out, hiding it from Jo's sight and started to brew it. While he waited, he squinted at the line of pastries and breakfast to-go options they had. "You uh... you said you like right, honey?" Again, he blinked, and then tried to laugh it off. "I meant right, honey? NO! Fuh... Honey, right? You like honey? I didn't mean to call you honey, I was...."  _ Shut. Up. _

A smile stretched across Cass’ lips. “Yes,  _ honey _ .” His eyes traveled Dean’s face. “You seem... on edge. Are you also sold out of honey?”

A renewed sense of panic spiked through him and he adopted a terrified expression. "Uh..." He ducked down and found a bottle of some locally-sourced stuff and nearly laughed in relief. He grabbed it and resurfaced, then shook his head. "Nope, we got it. But anyway, I asked because I make a mean honey cake, and  _ those  _ we've got."

“That sounds excellent. I’ll take two. Today will be a very long day in court, and I seem to forget to eat on those days. Thank you, Dean.”

Behind him, the Geisha coffee finished brewing. The aroma was fucking awesome, and if things had been different, he might've enjoyed a cup of it himself. "Yeah, I get that. I work at a garage after I leave here, so my days are long and hungry, too. Let me get your stuff together, I think you've waited enough." He grabbed the coffee, added some honey and took extra care to make sure the lid was on properly before boxing up two pieces of honey cake. He made his way over to Cass and set them on the counter. "I'll tell ya what. You're not a fan of coffee, but I promise... that'll taste as close to fruity tea as you can get with a bean and I'll be surprised if you don't like it." He picked up the cup and a sharpie and eyed him, smiling a little. "Do I get to know your name yet, or should I just go with honey?"

“Honey will suffice. But you can also call me James.” Cass grabbed the cup before Dean could write anything on it and pulled it to his lips to inhale it. “Smells fruity enough.” He took a sip and his eyes widened. “Wow. That is... exceptional. What is this called?”

Jo was staring at Dean with an expression that said,  _ yes, Dean. What's it called _ ? He knew he couldn't be truthful about it for a million reasons, so he ignored Jo and shrugged at Cass with a smirk. "State secret, but if you come back tomorrow, I'll getcha another one."

Cass smelled the honey cake and nodded. “Well then, I shall return tomorrow. How much do I owe you?”

Dean was grinning and tempted to give it to him for free again, but Jo was still staring at him. He rang up a small, regular tea and two honey cakes. "Six bucks."

Cass pulled out a ten and handed it to Dean. “The tip is for you. For not having anything I ordered, this was a very pleasant experience. Have a good day, Dean.”

"Yeah, you too... honey." He watched Cass walk out with a tightness in his chest. He'd managed to save the no-tea fiasco, but now he suddenly understood how hard Cass must have had it the last couple of times around. Being the one to forget was rough… but being the one to  _ remember? _ It hurt in places Dean didn’t know could hurt. 

He didn’t have long to dwell, however, because Jo was on his ass the second Cass left. 

“Was that the Geisha coffee?” 

Dean shook his head quickly. “No, no… of course not.” 

She shoved the bag in his face. “Oh? Then why is the damn  _ bag of Geisha coffee  _ out here? Cole is gonna  _ murder  _ you! This stuff is $75 a cup, and you just gave it to him for the price of a cup of friggen Folgers!” 

He flinched a little. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Look, I’ll pay for it myself, okay? I’ll pay for all of them. I’ll even buy a new bag of the shit to replace this one.” 

“A pound of that stuff, the  _ good  _ stuff, is $600 bucks. You can’t be serious, Dean, he’s a stranger!” 

_ Right, nobody fucking knows he’s the love of your several-lifetimes but you.  _ “Yeah, but it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, I’ll deal with Cole if he says something and I’ll try to have the bag replaced before he even notices.” 

She scowled and walked away, and Dean relaxed.  _ What’s a few hundred smacks when there’s something way bigger at stake?  _ The truth was, Dean would spend every last cent he had to get Cass back. 

Maybe even more. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Gabriel**

_ You have got to be kidding me.  _ How did that barely functional moron manage to save that? Not only did he save it, but somehow he came out of it looking even better than he would have if he’d just had regular tea!

_ Do not underestimate the Winchesters.  _

His own advice rattled around his head as a reminder, and he cursed himself. He’d known better than to play fair, and yet he did it anyway. It fucking figured that his plan backfired, but in the overall war, it didn’t matter. Not all was lost. There were still a few tricks up his sleeve that he hadn’t played yet, and he spent a few minutes contemplating where to go from there. If Dean was gonna keep figuring out ways to one-up him, he’d simply have to attack from the other side. The weaker, ever-gullible side. 

_ So, Cass is gonna be stuck in court all day, huh? Time for a little mano-a-mano.  _

He mojo’d himself into a three piece suit and then made himself look like a mess. He greased up his hair, added some bags under his eyes, and tugged at his suit until it looked wrinkled and all-around disheveled. Gabriel clicked his tongue, then fashioned himself a briefcase with papers haphazardly shoved into it. When he looked in the mirror, he smiled.  _ Yep, that’ll work.  _

He zapped down to the courthouse where Cass would be spending his day and walked in, compelling anyone that looked at him funny to believe that he belonged there. He peeked in to room after room until he spotted that stupid trench coat - some things  _ never  _ change - and busied himself right outside the double doors. 

It took way too damn long, but Castiel finally came out. Gabe dumped the contents of his briefcase on the ground at Cass’ feet and swore under his breath, bending down to pick it up. 

His predictable goody-two-shoes brother bent down to help him. “Long day?” 

Gabe looked up with his best Sam Winchester-worthy puppy dog eyes. “Yes, I’m not normally like this, I promise.” 

Cass nodded as they worked together to put the papers back in his case. “I understand. Perhaps you should consider taking on less cases?” 

He laughed bitterly. “It’s not the case-load. My clients are never the problem, it’s... “ Gabe trailed off and looked around, insinuating he didn’t want to be overheard. “Have you ever gotten into a new relationship? With someone you were insanely attracted to? It’s all sex, all the time. Which is great, but not when you’re a lawyer. A long  _ day  _ becomes  _ days.  _ I don’t even know… is it Thursday or Friday?” 

His brother blinked at him. “No, I… don’t remember having that problem.” 

_ Course you don’t, baby bro. You don’t remember anything past last week, you just don’t realize it.  _ “Well, I don’t know if you’re single or not… but date someone ugly. It’ll save you a world of hurt.” Gabe snapped his briefcase closed and stood up, nodding to Cass. “Thank you for your help.” 

Cass looked at him curiously, and Gabe took that opportunity to read his mind. He was thinking about Dean, as Gabe knew he would, and also that Gabe might have a point. “Have you eaten today?” 

Lunch hadn’t been on the itinerary, but if it helped him steer Cass away from Dean… he shook his head. “No, of course not. Have you?”

“No, I haven’t. And I have a little bit of a break before my next hearing if you’d like to go grab a bite. It’ll be my treat, I’ve got some good karma to pay forward.” Cass smiled sweetly at him and Gabe almost threw up in his mouth. 

“Sounds good, do you know a place?” Cass nodded, and Gabe gestured toward the door. “Lead the way. I’m Gabriel, by the way.” 

Absolutely no recognition crossed his brother’s face,  _ or  _ his mind.  _ Perfect.  _ They left the courthouse and walked about a block down the road to a little bistro. It was a cute little place, and their food came pretty quickly. He chuckled to himself at the thought of a couple of angels sitting down to a meal together. Cass didn’t need to eat, he just didn’t know it and Gabe usually preferred candy, but desperate times call for salami sandwich measures. 

“So, tell me about them.” 

Gabe glanced up over his food to Cass and looked like a deer in the headlights for a moment. He hadn’t prepared an actual backstory for this. “Oh, um… her name w-  _ is  _ Kali.” He licked his lips and stared at Cass, trying to control the wave of anger that pulsed through him at the reminder of why he was doing all of this in the first place. “She’s gorgeous… powerful… witty. She’s smarter than just about anyone I’ve ever met and she’s  _ wild  _ in the sack. She’s everything I ever wanted… and yet, the mere thought of her exhausts me.” 

His brother took that all in and nodded slowly as he picked at his food. “I could see how someone like that would be overwhelming.” 

“Yeah. I just wish I’d have waited until I was a little more comfortable where I’m at to start into a new relationship, you know?” Gabe frowned. “I just switched firms a couple of weeks ago and things have been a little crazy. I think I’m going to have to leave her, I should have just waited.” 

Still attuned to Cass’ true thoughts, Gabe fought a smile when his words hit home. And then, he fought the urge to flip the table and kill his brother outright because it was  _ his  _ fault that Gabe didn’t have Kali anymore. 

“I’m sorry, Richard. I can understand your frustration, it sounds like you’re crazy about her. Perhaps you can tell her you just need to take a step back?” 

He shook his head, no longer in the mood for that conversation or anything else for that matter. “Kali isn’t the type of woman you take a step back from and survive it.” 


	26. Chapter 26

**Dean**

Cass had been coming into Deja Brew every day for nearly two months, and Dean still hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask him out. They’d been flirting, sure… and Dean was already on bag number three of Geisha coffee, which meant he was wracking up quite a damn tab over it. Things would be so much easier - and cheaper - if he could just make him  _ remember.  _ He’d started out by trying to write little clues on Cass’ cups every day. Instead of writing his name - his real one, or the one that he’d given - he’d written things like  _ Lawrence  _ and  _ Pizza Man.  _ That last one earned him a weird look, but hey. Dean wasn’t an expert in triggering repressed memories via friggen coffee cups. He’d tried all of Cass’ old aliases.  _ Agent Beyonce, Steve, Emmanuel,  _ and even  _ Clarence.  _ Dean had even gone so far as to give Cass a copy of the Led Zeppelin mixtape he’d made him friggen forever ago. That had  _ also  _ earned him a look, but Dean had mumbled some shit about “ _ I do that for all of our regulars _ .” 

Yeah. Suffice it to say, things weren’t exactly going as planned. Their small talk often included shit like angels and demons, ghosts and wings. Nothing. Not a damn  _ trace  _ of recognition. Dean had brought up the Men of Letters bunker, and that numbskull had asked him how he managed to escape a cult. 

Things were  _ definitely  _ not going as planned, and Dean was fresh out of options. Not to mention, the longer time went on, the hornier he got. Sure, that was a stupid thing to think about… but once he knew Cass was real and not just a figment of kid-Dean’s imagination, he hadn’t even thought about being with anyone else. Castiel was the love of his life, period, the end. No one else would cut it. 

Out of options, Dean told himself if he just got the balls to ask Cass, things would work out. After all, when the situation was reversed, Cass had pursued him almost relentlessly until he’d given in and eventually remembered. If Cass could work up the nerve to do it, so could Dean. 

When Cass came in that morning, Dean flashed him his most charming smile. It wasn’t even forced - being around Castiel in any capacity made him smile. He served up his usual - a large Geisha coffee under the guise of regular ass joe and two honey cakes. This time, he held onto the items as Cass reached for them and cleared his throat. “Hey, so… I know you like my honey cakes, but how about you let me show you what I can really do? I make a mean PB & J, or if fancy’s more your style, I’m sure I could whip something up.” He smiled at the memory of Cass discovering PB&J for the first time, but it disappeared almost immediately. 

  
“I’m flattered, Dean, and I’m absolutely positive that your cooking would be phenomenal… I’m just not looking for a relationship at this time.” Cass’ jaw was set, but he wasn’t making eye contact. 

_ He’s embarrassed, you ass. You never even stopped to find out if he knew he was gay, or if he was out of the closet. What the fuck is wrong with you?  _

Dean backpedaled  _ hard.  _ “Oh, yeah, no… I meant just as friends. I’m not even gay.” His faced burned with the lie, but Cass’ shoulders relaxed. “I just figure we’ve talked about everything under the sun in here, and if that doesn’t make us friends, I don’t know what does. It’s no biggie though, forget I asked.” He released his hold on Cass’ breakfast and took a step back, nearly knocking Cole over in the process. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. Truly.” Cass hesitated a moment longer, and then was gone. 

\----------------

He was such a fucking idiot. Things the first time around were so different, they had a bond and were thrown together by apocalypse after apocalypse. The shit they went through together was so intense it woulda been a miracle if they  _ hadn’t  _ fallen in love, and this Cass barely knew him. Sure, when the tables were flipped, Dean had fallen for him. But it had taken months,  _ years  _ sometimes for it to happen, and usually didn’t until he remembered fully. Life always got in the way. 

Dean’s heart broke for Cass, thinking about what he must have gone through all those times Dean outright rejected him. If he’d been hurting half this badly, it was a testament to  _ how  _ in love they were that he never gave up. 

Well, maybe Dean wouldn’t either. He could keep trying, he  _ had  _ to keep trying. He owed it to both of them to be the strong one. 

Ever since his memories had come back, he’d been keeping in closer contact with Sammy. So many times, his lives had ended up with his brother dead.  _ What a fucking sentence.  _ He called his brother and sprawled out on the couch. 

“Sup, jerk?” 

Dean smiled. “Hey, bitch. I need some dating advice from someone that’s used to getting turned down.” 

Sam scoffed, and Dean laughed silently. “You called the wrong number, then. Why don’t you just take advice from yourself?” 

“Well, ya see, I would… but obviously my advice didn’t work. You got time to talk your older, more attractive brother through a crisis or what?”

Silence, then a dramatic sigh. “Of course, Dean. What’s going on?” 

“Say you like a guy. Or, I guess in your case, say you like a chick. Like  _ really  _ like ‘em, right? Not just some dumb crush, but you  _ like  _ like them. And you get the nerve to ask them out, and they say no. What do you do?” 

“Uhm… Dean? I’m pretty sure if you do  _ anything  _ but drop it and walk away, it’s considered stalking.” 

Dean groaned. “No, no… it’s not like that. I know he likes me to, I -- fuck. I don’t know how to explain it to you, just trust me. He feels the same way, I think he’s just nervous or maybe not outta the closet yet.” 

Sammy contemplated that for a moment. “I honestly don’t know, Dean. If he’s struggling with coming out, you’re better off not pushing him at all. Do you remember how hard it was for you?” 

“How could I forget? I threw up three times before I got the whole thing out.”

“See? So, if you really think that’s what it is, just give him time. Maybe when he works up the nerve to do it on his own, he’ll realize you didn’t push him and were just…  _ there  _ for him. That kinda thing goes a long way.” 

Dean relaxed. Sammy was right, and really… why was Dean in such a hurry? Chances were the whole world would turn upside down again the second they said ‘I love you’ anyway. Maybe he was rushing right back to a shitty end and another reset. He did  _ not  _ think he’d survive puberty again. “You’re right, Sammy. Alright, get some sleep. Sorry I bugged you. Night, bitch.” 

“Night, jerk.” 

He hung up and took a deep breath, curling in on himself and closing his eyes. Just because he understood, didn’t make it suck any less. 

He fucking  _ missed  _ Cass. 


	27. Chapter 27

**Gabriel**

_ He said no!!  _ Gabe laughed maniacally at the broken look on Dean’s face. “Sorry, Deano. Not even you can overpower an archangel’s influence. Better luck next time.” 

He was still chuckling to himself well into the night as he watched Dean soak up the truth. Really, he had to give himself props this time. He hadn’t even needed to compel Cass to say no - the little shit had done it all on his own with nothing more than a gently guided conversation with a stranger. 

Raphael came in and looked disapprovingly at him. “Don’t you have better things to do with your time? I thought you were out hunting monsters, not watching human filth.” 

“I was. But right now, the ‘Dean Winchester is a Crybaby Bitch’ show is on, and it’s a good one. The monster hunting can wait.” Gabe popped a Skittle into his mouth and kicked his feet up. “Come on, bro. Take a seat. I think this is the part where he does the whole ‘single man tear’ thing. It’s a riot. Best shit on Angel TV these days.” 

His brother hesitated but ultimately took a seat with a heavy sigh. “Are you getting what you want?” 

He nodded with a broad grin. “Uh huh. The pine-fest has officially begun, and it’s as one-sided as I’ve ever seen it. Cassie’s doing great and poor little Dean is falling apart at the seams.” 

Raphael’s frown deepened. “Aren’t you punishing the wrong one? The way I remember it, this wasn’t Dean’s decision.” 

“Careful now, Raph. First the fledglings, now the Righteous D-bag… if I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were going soft in your old age.” He winked at Raphael’s eye-roll and continued. “Besides, tried and failed to punish the winged one. True love prevailed, and all that shit. I couldn’t pull it off that way so I changed the game. Much better results.” 

“Hm. Well this better be your last attempt, Gabriel. I won’t tolerate you screwing with time again.” 

Raphael stood to leave and Gabe just watched. He had no doubt in his mind his brother would throw him in Holy Jail if he disobeyed, so he started working on a Plan B. He’d underestimated them enough to know that somehow, someway, they’d probably find their way back to each other. And if he couldn’t turn back time again, he’d have to find another way to keep them apart. 

\-------------

As it was, he didn’t have to wait long for those assholes to figure it out. He was watching from Heaven for the first few days after Cass had said no, but he wanted to be a part of the fun. 

He’d shopped around for a new vessel, one Cass wouldn’t recognize, and then made his way into Deja Brew. He started hanging out there on a daily basis, watching with nothing short of amusement as Dean tried and failed to flirt with Cass. It was like the denial went straight to his overinflated ego and he couldn’t string more than a few words together before stuttering and walking away. It was almost sad, like watching an animal get devoured by something a lot meaner. But natural selection had been  _ his  _ idea, after all, so maybe he enjoyed it a little too much. 

The first day Cass didn’t show up and went to a different coffee shop, Gabe nearly threw a party. He’d spent most of the morning on a bench across the street, hiding behind a newspaper and watching from afar but when it came time for Cass’ usual arrival, he’d gone inside and sat down to prepare for the day's entertainment. That meant he had a front-row, center-aisle seat while watching Dean start to panic. Gabe kept his eyes on the paper in front of him but tuned into Dean’s inner monologue. 

_ Where is he? Why isn’t he here? Is he sick? Does he hate me? What if it’s something worse? Did the demons find him again? Another angel? Did he get his memories back? Did he just oversleep? Fuck, why didn’t I get his phone number! Oh, right, because you asked him out and he turned your ass down like a hotel bed sheet. He’s Cass, he’s probably fine. Maybe he just found better coffee. No, that’s impossible, Geisha coffee is the best in the world. Okay, maybe he found better tea. Fuck, what do I do now? If he doesn’t come in, I’ve got no damn way to find him. He thinks his name is James… James what? Novak? Did he make up a last name? C’mon, Dean. Dammit! You used to be a fucking hunter, you know better than to not do the research. Fucking fuck fuck fuck fuck -  _

Gabe jumped out as Dean’s thoughts basically became unintelligible screaming.  _ Yowza.  _ He was in a mood to rub salt into already aggravated wounds, so he pranced up to the counter. “Can I get two honey cakes please?” 

Dean looked at the empty shelf, and then at the box he had already prepared for Cass. He scowled at it and then looked a little like a wounded dog. “Sure, man. They’re already boxed to-go, is that okay? The guy that ordered ‘em never showed up and they’re the last two we’ve got.” 

He nodded and popped his lips. “Yep, fine by me, Deano.” He nodded to the nametag and grinned like an asshole. “If you’re looking for James, he’s a coworker of mine. Said something about the Daily Cup down the street having some hot ass barista chick that he was interested in. I don’t think he’s coming back here.” 

Watching Dean try and remain professional while that little white lie sunk into his thick skull was more satisfying than all the candy in the world. Dean pushed the box toward him. “Just take it. It’s on the house. Oh, and if you talk to him… tell him he owes me about $2 grand for the Geisha coffee.” He turned on his heel and ripped his apron off before yelling toward the back, “Trenton! I quit!” 

Glee rocketed through Gabe’s body. This was an unintended but  _ splendid  _ side effect. Even if Cass did show up now, his knight in shining apron wouldn’t be around to serve him shitty cakes. He took his prize and strolled out of Deja Brew with a smile that would last a thousand years. 

_ Checkmate.  _


	28. Chapter 28

**Dean**

_ Some hot ass barista chick. So he  _ **_is_ ** _ in the closet, or maybe he just ain’t gay. Can you be in love with someone of the same gender but not actually be something other than hetero? Is that a thing? Doesn’t fucking matter either way, Cass made his choice. I guess this one was one too many.  _

Cole fought him on the resignation right up until Dean told him he’d been giving Geisha away for free. As anticipated, Dean wasn’t getting a final paycheck. He tossed his apron on the back of Cole’s office chair and grabbed his coat before making his way outside. 

He was staring at the ground and pouting about how shitty everything was when he ran smack into another human being. He didn’t bother looking up. “Sorry, man. My bad.” 

“Dean?”

He whipped around so fast he nearly fell over. “Cass?!” 

But of course, that’s not his fucking name. Cass’ face fell like he thought Dean was expecting someone else. Dean quickly reached out to stop him from walking away. “Fuck, I’m sorry. It’s just a stupid nickname I have for you in my head, I know who you are and I’m happy to see you. Are you okay? I was worried when you didn’t show up.” 

Cass glanced at his hand, but didn’t move out of his grasp. “Yes, I… was debating on doing something I should have done ages ago.” 

“And?” Dean searched his face, knowing he looked hopeful as hell. He didn’t try to hide it. 

“And… if the offer still stands, I would love to come over for some peanut butter and jelly.” Cass smiled warmly, and Dean’s heart started shitting rainbow colored confetti. 

“Seriously?” The urge to kiss him right then was so forceful that he nearly did it. “Of course it still stands, C-  _ James.  _ What day? How soon? Are you busy right now? I kinda just quit my job.” 

Cass laughed as he processed Dean’s twenty questions. “I was thinking maybe Friday night?” 

“Yeah, sounds great.” He was beaming, and pulled out his phone to exchange numbers with Cass. “I’ll see you Friday night, then.” 

His angel lingered a moment longer, and then left. 

_ Hell yes!  _

\-----------------------

Friday night arrived, and he was more nervous than he’d ever been. This was his chance, he was finally gonna get Cass alone and he was  _ determined  _ to remind him of who he was. He had everything set: a bee documentary on the TV,  _ Twister  _ and  _ Sorry  _ clearly laid out on the counter, a picture of a guinea pig hung up on his wall that he’d printed out, and most importantly… the angel blade. It wasn’t Cass’, he had no damn idea where that one was, but he’d driven out to Lebanon to get one of the spares from the bunker. 

Looking around, it was just as likely that Cass would think he was a fucking lunatic as it was that he’d remember who he truly was.  _ Oh well, go big or go home heartbroken.  _

His shitty, garbled doorbell rang and he took a moment in front of the door to mess with his hair and straighten his shirt. When he opened it, Cass smiled at him and Dean’s fears melted away. One way or another, everything was going to be fine. It had to be, this was  _ them.  _ He wasn’t big on chick flick moments, but not even he could deny how friggen epic their love story was. “Heya, James.” 

Cass stepped in and looked around as he shrugged his trench coat off. “Hello, Dean. This is an… interesting home.” Cass’ eyes landed on the TV and his face lit up. “I didn’t know you were interested in bees. Fascinating creatures.” 

_ Atta boy.  _ “Yeah, course. Earth’s most important, and all that jazz. Come in, have a seat. I’ve been slaving over these PB&J’s all day.” 

“Oh, you poor thing. How can I ever repay such an effort?” Cass wrinkled his nose adorably and Dean nearly swooned. 

“No need, I’m always happy to serve a good cause. Seriously though, sit down. You look tense.” It wasn’t a lie, Cass looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders - it was a sight he was all too familiar with. “You okay?” 

Cass nodded as he slowly walked around Dean’s apartment, checking everything out. His eyes lingered on the blade. “Well, I was. Now I’m concerned you’re secretly a serial killer, and not a very good one, at that.” 

_ Fuck, how did I not see that coming?  _ “No, not a serial killer.”  _ Kinda, but not really. That was another life, anyway. Literally.  _ He moved into the kitchen and started making the sandwiches. “Got that from a friend of mine and just haven’t found a place to stash it yet. I don’t even know what it is, have you ever seen one before?” 

Dean watched him pick it up and slide his fingers over the mostly dull blade. “No, but... “ Cass eyed it curiously, and for a moment, Dean thought he might have remembered something. “I don’t see how this would be a very useful blade. Sure, it’s pointy, but… it’s too large to do anything but kill with it. Don’t you think?” 

He swallowed, thinking about all of the times that very blade had likely killed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He finished up the sandwiches and slid one on a plate over to Cass. “Your five-star meal is served, sir.” 

Cass chuckled and took the sandwich. “How did you know I love these things?” 

_ Because right now, I know you even better than you know yourself.  _ “Lucky guess. Figured I was spot on with the coffee and the honey cakes, I probably wasn’t wrong about this.” 

They made small talk as they ate, but Cass didn’t seem to relax a whole lot. That gave him an idea, though, so after he cleaned up the plates, he told Cass to take his suit jacket off. “You’re makin’ me feel underdressed.” 

Cass didn’t fight him, and Dean moved closer to help him take it off. He laid it carefully over the back of his recliner and then brought his hands up to Cass’ shoulders. “You still look tense. Is this… okay?”  _ No, it’s probably weird as shit, but honestly he probably expects that from you by now.  _

“Uhm…” Cass tilted his head back and let out a sigh as Dean started rubbing. “Yes, that’s… decidedly okay.” 

_ Fuck. I can’t see his damn wing slits through his shirt and if he lets them out right here, he’s gonna break everything in my house. How the hell am I gonna pull this off?  _

“Look, I really hope this doesn’t come across as creepy, but this would be a lot easier if you were laying down and I didn’t have to fight through poplin.” 

Cass tensed even further but then slowly turned to look at Dean. “I’m not… I don’t…” 

_ Closet. Right. But didn’t he agree to this date? Shit.  _ He smiled disarmingly. “Relax, Jimbo. It’s just a massage, I’m not gonna try to fuck you.” 

Cass’ face flushed. “That’s the problem, Dean. I want to, and yet I don’t want to scare you away. I know this is our first date, but…” He reached up to run his thumb over Dean’s bottom lip. “I’ve wanted to for a very long time.” 

_ Fucking score!  _ Dean gently bit Cass’ thumb and wiggled his eyebrows. “Then maybe your massage will have a happy ending, just get your ass in my room and take your shirt off. It’s the second door on the left through the hallway.” 

Cass turned on his heel and started unbuttoning his shirt as he walked toward Dean’s room.  _ Well, here we are. For better or worse, he’s either gonna remember me by the time I’m done or he’s gonna call the cops on me. Time to figure out which one.  _


	29. Chapter 29

**Castiel**

Dean’s hands felt incredible, and he’d only gotten a taste. He was nervous as hell, he’d never been with  _ anyone  _ before, let alone a man.  _ What does one even do with a man? The parts don’t seem… compatible. _ Maybe he should have watched porn, or done some research… surely it didn’t happen the way logic says it would. That’s an exit only, right? And who does the… 

_ Stop. There’s probably not any insertion involved, that would be ridiculous, unsanitary, and frankly dangerous. No one would want that.  _

He shrugged his shirt the rest of the way off as Dean turned the light on from behind him. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” 

Cass’ stomach flipped at the praise and he looked over his shoulder at Dean. “So are you.” It felt like an understatement that had fallen flat, but he wasn’t exactly great at using his words unless he was in a courtroom. 

Dean guided him to the bed and Cass got comfortable on his stomach. He’d never had a proper massage before, but the little bit that he’d gotten in the living room had been enough for him to know he should be excited. He felt Dean’s weight on his ass and then those beautiful hands were sliding slowly up his body. They stopped between his shoulder blades as Dean sucked in a breath, and Cass closed his eyes. “Sorry, I know those marks aren’t very attractive.” 

“No, no. Shit, do you know what those are?” 

_ What does he mean?  _ “They’re just scars, Dean. I must have injured myself as a child, and the wounds never quite healed all the way.” 

Dean’s fingertip traced one of them and Cass’ body twitched. He felt something stirring just under the surface of his skin, which was weird. He might not have ever had sex before, but he’d certainly been turned on enough to masturbate, and that’s  _ not  _ what it felt like. 

He squirmed a little more as Dean’s finger became more insistent.  _ Why the hell is he fixating on those? What kind of a --  _

“You’re an angel, Castiel. You’re the Angel of Thursday. Your name isn’t James, and these are  _ wing slits,  _ not wounds. I know you don’t believe me, but just hold…  _ still... _

Alarm bells rang in Cass’ head and he tried to get up, but the movement caused Dean’s finger to slip inside the wound. He braced himself for pain or discomfort, but  _ nothing  _ could have prepared him for what actually happened. 

He cried out as explosive pressure built and released from his back. If he wasn’t already flat out on the bed, he’d have collapsed from the suddenness of it and the relief that filtered through his body from the kind of discomfort that you didn’t even know you were in until it stopped. Opening his eyes seemed like a bad idea, especially because Dean’s words were starting to make sense and he was terrified of them. 

Cass could  _ feel  _ his wings like new appendages. They twitched and shuddered with his changing emotions and even the soft brush of air against them felt… good. Too good, like one physical touch would have him rutting into that mattress until he was cumming hard. 

“See? Wings. You’re an angel, Cass. Please tell me you remember that.” 

_ Why does he keep calling me that? None of this is real, it has to be a dream.  _

But Dean’s hands in his… in his  _ wings  _ didn’t feel like a dream. He moaned into Dean’s pillow and his wings jerked hard enough that they threw Dean off of him. Cass tried to sit up quickly, but he was buried in his own feathers and couldn’t see anything. He focused on making them move, and then at all once, the reality of the situation hit him. 

“I have  _ wings?!  _ What the - how -” He stood up, turning in circles and trying to get a better look at them. His heart was hammering and everything seemed tilted, like his world had shifted physically as well as metaphorically. “You’re… I’m…” 

Dean kissed him, and something inside of his mind snapped. 

_ A fish, crawling out of the ocean.  _

_ Himself, clad in armor.  _

_ Brothers and sisters… so, so many of them, each with wings of their own.  _

_ Fighting his way into Hell to raise the Righteous Man from perdition.  _

_ A G.I. Joe stuck in a Chevy’s ashtray.  _

_ Becoming God.  _

_ Black eyes and a mark that changed his greatest friend.  _

_ Green eyes, on a hillside in New Zealand.  _

_ Dean, Dean…. Always Dean… steady like the sun, as all-consuming as a hurricane.  _

“Cass?” 

He blinked, and a thousand more memories forced their way to the forefront of his mind. 

_ Reset after reset, decades spent searching for Dean.  _

_ Naomi, putting a helmet on his head and drilling into his brain.  _

_ Gabriel, and his betrayal.  _

Tears welled in his eyes and he couldn’t find words. He kissed Dean with everything in him, his grace now flowing freely through his veins again. That kiss was endless, devouring, and not enough. He needed all of Dean, needed to feel him splitting him open and filling him up completely. Part of him knew that wasn’t their usual style, but this… he’d wanted too long. Been deprived too long. He needed the pain and the pleasure and the submission that would come with it. He needed to give Dean  _ everything.  _ “I love you, Dean. I love you, and I’m sorry.” 

“Shh, shh, angel. Don’t be sorry, nothin’ to be sorry  _ for.  _ This wasn’t your fault, and you’re here now. I’m here now. It’s okay.” Dean kissed him again, pushing him gently back onto the bed and climbing on top of him. “‘Sokay, I’ve got you.” 

He choked back a sob, all of the emotions of the past 75 years overwhelming him at once. “Please, Dean.” He didn’t know how to ask, didn’t know how to beg Dean to give Cass all of  _ him.  _ He was terrified that Gabriel would take him away again if they went through with this, but it was too late. Cass was too far gone and needed this more than anything. At least this time, he would know who his enemy was. 

That thought gave him courage. “Dean, it’s Gabriel. Gabriel is doing this to us, and it’s only a matter of time before he does it again. If he does, I need you to know that I  _ will  _ find him and I  _ will  _ kill him. I will do whatever I need to do to find him. And if you’re the one that remembers, I need you to promise me you’ll do the same. Don’t give up on us, Dean. We can fix this.” 

Dean nodded. “Course, angel. I’m not giving up.” 

“Good. Then fuck me, Dean.” 


	30. Chapter 30

**Dean**

For a moment, Dean thought he’d heard him wrong. But a half a second later, their clothes vanished into thin air and Cass’ wings were stretching out on the bed. “You… you want  _ me  _ to…” 

That entire thing had been exhausting but he felt  _ so  _ much better, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to complain about finally getting to fuck Cass. Sure, he preferred bottoming, but sinking deep into his angel had crossed his mind a thousand times. 

He leaned in to kiss him as his hand slid down Cass’ body and wrapped around his cock. Seeing him like this, needy and vulnerable… it broke his heart and turned him on all at the same time. Cass was hard in his fist within seconds, and then Dean moved lower. He brushed over the insides of his thighs and cupped his balls, rolling them gently through his fingers as he bit Cass’ neck. His angel spread his legs in invitation, and Dean experimentally slid a finger into him. Grace was a fucking awesome thing, and he quickly moved up to two, pumping them slowly and stretching Cass out. 

Cass moaned under him and squirmed, and Dean experimentally tugged on a couple of his feathers. He could see Cass’ cock twitch and his angel got louder, so Dean kept going. He kneaded his fingers in deeper, marveling at the softness and pliancy of those wings that Dean used to see in his head as a child. 

“You know, for a while… your wings were all I remembered about you. Well… these, and your eyes. I could live a thousand lifetimes and never forget those eyes.” His hand glided over the broad expanse of the wing, following the perfect curve and flicking across the bottom. 

“Dean!” The ragged desperation in Cass’ voice had Dean pulling out his fingers quickly and then leaning back to stroke himself. 

He didn’t need much help, having Cass like this was turning him on in ways he hadn’t expected. Maybe it was his normally tough best friend showing vulnerability, or the sheer immensity of the time they’d spent apart, or the fact that he was about to be balls deep in an  _ angel,  _ but his cock was throbbing in his hand and he fumbled to line up with Cass’ hole. He looked into his eyes as he pressed in slowly, then tilted his head back. “Fuck, Cass. Jesus, you feel good.” 

“Look at me, Dean. Please, I…” Cass sounded so damn needy that Dean nearly stopped moving. It was beautiful and hot and heartbreaking and terrifying all at once. If Cass really believed this was the only time they’d get to do this, he was right. Dean shouldn’t look away, no matter what. 

  
“I’m here, angel.” He rocked into him slowly, stroking Cass’ cock with every thrust as he gradually picked up speed. Cass looked beautiful like that, splayed out below him, flushed and sweating and  _ his.  _ If Dean looked half that good himself, he understood why Cass liked it so much. 

He leaned down, licking into Cass’ mouth and trying to pace himself. This was a whole new feeling, Cass was hot and tight and so fucking inviting, he didn’t ever want to stop but with every thrust he barrelled closer to his edge. 

“Please, Dean. Need to feel you... “ 

He hoped that meant what he thought it meant, because the thought of cumming inside of Cass tipped him over before he could even think about pulling out. Dean grunted and bit down on Cass’ neck as he came in short, hot bursts. His hand fisted back in Cass’ wing and then his angel followed, crying out his name and spilling all over Dean’s hand. 

They caught their breath together and Dean stayed buried inside of him, unwilling to move for a long, long moment. “You’re amazing, Castiel.” 

Cass whimpered and kissed the side of his neck. “I missed you. I’m sorry it took me so long to say yes.” 

“Cass, quit apologizing. It took me way longer that first time, remember? I was such a dick to you, I’ll never forgive myself. You not agreeing to a date with a virtual stranger isn’t all that bad.” He slowly pulled out with a reluctant groan, and Cass curled up against him after he laid down.

“You know he’s going to come for us again, right?” 

Dean nodded slowly and pulled the blankets up over them. “I know, angel. But this time, we know who it is. We’ll figure out how to stop him, okay? We’ll beat him somehow and then we can finally just  _ be  _ together.” 

Cass rolled to face him and kissed his jaw. “I hope you’re right, Dean. The thought of having to live for another 25 years without you is too much. I’m so sorry that you had to deal with it this time, I know how horrible it is to be the one to remember.” 

“Shh, it’s okay.” He felt like a broken record, but they’d been through too damn much for him to care. If he needed to spend every minute for the rest of his life telling Cass it was okay, he would. “Just sleep, angel. We’ll deal with whatever comes in the morning, okay?” 

“If we even make it that long.” 

That wasn’t something Dean even wanted to consider. Stopping Gabriel would get exponentially harder if he woke up in the morning as a damn baby, or if Cass forgot again. At least now, Dean knew a pretty quick way to get him to remember, if it came to that. “I love you, Cass.” 

“I know that, Dean. I love you, too, and no matter what happens…” 

“We’ll find our way back to each other.” 

They held each other until they fell asleep. After that, words didn’t seem fitting. They each knew where the other stood and what they  _ both  _ stood to lose if things didn’t go their way, but they’d never stop fighting to find their way back to each other. Dean was confident that they’d do this for the rest of eternity if they had to, but it wouldn’t come to that. They’d stopped archangels before. They’d stopped God, The Darkness, the whole ass apocalypse and even fucking Hitler. Now that their enemy had a name, they’d defeat him too. 

\--------------------

When Dean woke up the next morning, he didn’t recognize the man sleeping next to him. 

**END OF PART THREE**


	31. Part Four: Feels Like the First Time

**Gabriel**

_ Shit shit shit SHIT!  _

Gabe raced through Heaven, dodging angels and trying to find a suitable place to hide from his brother. Technically, he hadn’t broken any rules. The timeline was still intact, he just majorly fucked with Cass and Dean’s memories again. If them starting out as strangers wasn’t going to work, well… they’d just have to start off as enemies. He’d restored bits and pieces of Dean’s original memories back to him, but stopped right around the time that Dean was hunting for the ‘demon’ that pulled him out of hell. Only this time, he gave that ‘demon’ a face… Castiel’s face. Gabe wasn’t quite strong enough to really screw with Cass’ memory the way Naomi had with that bizarro helmet thing, but he’d obviously done a good enough job with it because when they woke up next to each other… instead of fighting, they’d tried to kill each other. 

Something about that was probably illegal. Or, at least bad enough that Raph would kick his ass anyway. His brother never was very fond of loopholes, but it wasn’t really Gabe’s fault that he was so damn good at finding them. 

Either way, this was it. Gabriel’s Last Stand. If Hollywood didn’t make a movie out of that trainwreck,  _ he  _ would. As he wandered along the Axis Mundi, he reflected on the last 75 years. Most of it had been spent… what, exactly? Waiting for Dean Winchester to grow up? Staring down from Heaven, watching the precise and total  _ opposite  _ of what he wanted to happen, happen? 

_ Shit.  _

In the end, he knew nothing that he’d done or could do would bring Kali back to him. Sometimes, he’d watch  _ her  _ from afar, living her life as if she’d never known him. Because she didn’t… thanks to Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Shit. 

Gabe’s face contorted in anger as it had so many times over the past several decades. Maybe he was spoiled, but he was accustomed to being able to have anything he’d ever desired - so not getting the only thing he’d ever  _ actually  _ desired really ticked him off. 

Without realizing it, he’d wandered a bit too close to some of Raphael’s closest little rug monkeys. They weren’t fledglings, but they spent so much time on their knees bowing to him and acting like morons that it still seemed an apt description. One of them spotted Gabe and signaled to the others, yelling to each other that they’d ‘found him.’ 

_ Great, just freaking peachy. Guess Big Brother knows, time to jet.  _

He left Heaven without much remorse. Earth was more fun anyway; at least down there he could get drunk enough to forget the cause he’d apparently dedicated his existence to. So, that’s what he did. 

He hid on Earth, he drank, he maybe-not-really stalked Kali, tried to fill the void with sex and money, and then drank some more. 

For twenty-five damn years. 

Things eventually got easier. The longer time went on, the better he felt. Dean quit hunting for the thing that pulled him out of hell a few years after Gabe’s last little trick, and Cass had returned to Heaven as a full-blown soldier. Order was restored. The Righteous Man and the Fallen Angel were no more, and yet… it did little to heal the hole inside his chest. 

Big deal, Dean was now a 50 year old bachelor that seemed like he’d live to see the end of his hunting days, and Cass was once again leading an entire garrison. They were still happy, even without each other, and it made Gabe nauseous. Yeah, there was something missing. Any idiot that had seen them together in their prime would see that neither one was exactly firing on all cylinders without the other, but they didn’t  _ know  _ they were firing without the other.

This was decidedly a  _ very  _ stupid plan, from beginning, through the empty, boring middle… right to the very end. An anti-climactic finish to a mediocre trick. 

Some tiny, rational part of his brain tried to reason with him and tell him that all he’d managed to do was create three victims instead of two, but hadn’t he just discovered that they didn’t seem to care? Cass… what, never discovered buttsex or PB&J and Dean never lost half the people he loved because he didn’t get dragged into Heaven’s bullshit? Yeah, some punishment. Nah, all that really happened was Dean got to spend the rest of his youth balls deep in whatever hot chick would have him and Cass got to put an entire host of angels on their knees with shiny armor and glinty, white wings. 

_ This isn’t how it was supposed to happen. They were supposed to suffer, supposed to pine for each other and bleed and break and beg for forgiveness at my feet, not just… go on living their lives like nothing changed. If I can’t, how can they? They’re no better than me. They’re not… _

But, maybe they were. Maybe that’s what all this was, a giant, glaring lesson to Gabe that some people didn’t deserve love and he was one of them. And what did he do in response? Just proved he wasn’t worthy of love by screwing up the lives of two people so  _ designed  _ for each other that it took everything in his Trickster arsenal just to keep them apart. 

A hundred years it had taken… and there was no payoff except for more self-loathing. He never needed more of that, he was practically the poster boy for it already. He argued with himself over what to do, and ultimately… the side of him more influenced by selfishness won out. Maybe he’d gone about this right to begin with… just pulled the wrong trigger. 

He grinned to himself and zapped back up to Heaven. “Oh, Casti _ eeeeel… _ ” 


	32. Chapter 32

**Castiel**

“Again!” Cass barked in Enochian, signalling the angels in his charge to repeat their drills. Hell hadn’t been an issue in quite some time - no one really remembered what happened, but there wasn’t an angel in all of Heaven that was going to bother looking into why the demon filth had finally stopped their relentless attacks. Perhaps they’d finally realized they were entirely outmatched… or maybe they all died out. Either way, it meant the armies of Heaven hadn’t had a lot of opportunity to stretch their wings. 

He watched as one armored angel after another dove through the clouds in their battle formations. They had no target, not even for practice, but synchronizing their movements and utilizing their surroundings to conceal themselves during an attack were half the battle. An angel’s grace was so intrinsically linked to their life force that it didn’t take a lot of skill or thought to strike with it. One thought, and he could bring Dean Winchester to his knees. 

Cass froze, his attention immediately drifting from his soldiers.  _ Why Dean Winchester? The Righteous Man hasn’t been heard from since the prophecy fell apart. What a curious thing to think about…  _

“Oh, Casti _ eeeeel… _ ” 

That was a voice that hadn’t pierced his ears in decades. He turned, his many wings flaring out at his sides in some instinctual show of defiance. “Gabriel?” 

The first thing he noticed was the presence of his older brother’s vessel. Castiel himself hadn’t bothered with one in quite some time, and neither had the other angels since their quest to save humankind from themselves was put aside, so it was strange to see one walking the hallowed halls again. Something twinged deep in his gut, like a long-forgotten memory. Nostalgia, maybe? No, that was impossible. There was nothing to miss, James Novak’s body served it’s very brief purpose and was properly disposed of like all other vessel’s whose soul inhabitants had died prematurely. 

“Cassie! Long time no see. Easy with the wings, baby bro, you don’t wanna go picking a fight you can’t win.” Gabriel slid his hands into his denim pockets and adopted an unthreatening, relaxed pose. It confused Castiel, it went against everything he remembered about the archangel, but he lowered his wings in deference. 

“What can I do for you, Gabriel?” 

Gabriel’s smile was disarming, but something simmered beneath the surface that kept Castiel on edge. “Have any weird… flashbacks recently? Like say… ten minutes ago? Two minutes ago?” 

_ I’d hardly call Dean Winchester a flashback, as he was so inconsequential to my life that I’m surprised I remember his name.  _ “No, I haven’t. Why do you ask?” 

“Oh, no reason. Would be a shame if someone....” Gabe pinched his tongue between his teeth and smacked Castiel directly in the forehead with enough force to knock him backward. His wings wrapped tightly around him as he fell, and it took several, dazed seconds for him to realize how different he was when he stood back up. 

First of all, he was naked.  _ No, not naked. Just not in a vessel. Where is my body?  _ “Gabriel… what?” A dull ache spread through his form, one he was starting to acutely remember but it seemed muted compared to what he’d once known it to be. “What did you do to me?”

Gabe shrugged, his cheeks puffing slightly with the effort to hold back a laugh. “How much time you got? I did a whole  _ crapload  _ of crazy to you, and I’m gonna go ahead and see myself out before you work it out. Have fun, and… for what it’s worth, I hope he fails in killing you.” 

In the blink of an eye, Gabriel was gone. 

\--------------

It took him the Earth equivalent of a week to repair his old vessel and adjust to the change in his reality. Everything he’d gone through, everything  _ Dean  _ had gone through… was Gabriel’s fault. He still didn’t know why, but now he was very, painfully, horribly aware that the answer to his greatest problem had been right in front of him for the last century - he’d just been too stupid to see it. 

Twenty five years ago, he’d woken up next to Dean and hadn’t recognized him or why he was there. Dean had stabbed him, but the demon blade he used was as ineffective that day as it had been on the very first.  _ Some things never change.  _

Despite now having some pieces of the puzzle, there was still a gaping hole in the middle that was preventing him from seeing the bigger picture. And without that, he had no idea how he was supposed to find a solution. 

So, like every other time he’d had a problem he didn’t quite understand, he went to Joshua. But for once, the old, wise angel had no words of comfort for him. 

“Think about it, Castiel. He’s an archangel, the Trickster, you cannot beat him one on one. Even if you managed to bring the Righteous Man back to your side, your chances of winning without a Hand of God are slim to none.” 

Cass’ eyes snapped up to Joshua’s. “What did you say? Do you know where I can find one? Does Balthazar -” 

“Enough, Castiel. The use of a Hand against one of God’s own creations will result in a punishment much worse than anything Gabriel might be putting you through.” Joshua’s words were stern, and not at all what he wanted to hear, but Castiel knew the truth between the lines. 

“You don’t know Dean Winchester.” 

Cass strode away without another word.  _ Punishment or not… looks like I’m off to find a Hand of God.  _


	33. Chapter 33

**Dean**

His back popped as he stepped away from Baby’s open hood. “Ah, fuck. Damn joints.” 

Sam laughed from behind him and tapped a cold beer against his arm. “You’re old, Dean. It happens.” 

“ _ Pfft,”  _ He scowled as he took the beer and cracked it open. “I’m not old, I’m… vintage. Like a great vinyl, or… fine wine.” But the truth was, Dean was starting to feel his age. He never imagined he’d make it into his 50’s, and judging by how every muscle in his damn body screamed bloody murder at him first thing each morning, he wasn’t sure why he ever wanted to. He let the hood fall shut, glanced over to the highway a little ways off and then took a sip and leaned back against the car. “Reflexes aren’t what they used to be, though. That’s for sure.” 

“I know, I saw that shapeshifter get the drop on you. You looked like you didn’t even know what day it was.” 

Dean mocked his not-so-little brother and then let out a sigh. "Still got the fucker, though. How's that song go? 'I ain't as good as I once was, but I'm as good once, as I ever was'? That's about as real as it gets."

“Yeah... maybe it’s time we hang it up. I mean, have you ever had... love?” Sam took a drink of his beer. “I know kids were never in the cards for us, but I have Amelia. Who do you have, Dean?”

He clicked his tongue and took a prolonged sip. "Sammy, it's too early in the day for you to be comin' after me like that. I got what I need, you know that. Cold beer, my Baby, occasional life-saving and also -threatening road trips with my brother. I never needed love, been surrounded by it my whole damn life. You, Jodes, Donna, the girls, Bobby. Mom and Dad, till they died. I'm happy for you, man, but you'd think you'd know by now that love just ain't in the Dean Winchester deck."

Sam nodded longer than he should have. “It’s an amazing thing, Dean. I know you have love. I love you, everyone who knows you, loves you... besides monsters.” He chuckled and then continued, “But... it’s different. You know love, you know sex, you should try combining the two one day. No one says our deck can’t be changed or shuffled or whatever.”

Dean stared at the ground and sucked his teeth. He knew Sam was right, and hell... he'd given it more than one shot over the years, but he couldn't ever get it right. "Sammy, chicks only dig the bad boys for a minute. And at my age? The whole 'traveling the country, can't talk about my work' thing doesn't really fly. I'm too damn old to spin stories just to get laid, and I'm not draggin' anyone else into this full-time. So unless Pamela decides she wants to give it up after all these years, it'll be me and Baby till the wheels fall off." He didn't know how to explain to Sam that he'd had a hole in his chest for as long as he could remember. A hole with no name or face, just a... feeling. With as many times as they'd been hexed, cursed, killed, brought back, healed, and had their memories wiped, he was pretty damn sure that hole used to be a person - he just couldn't remember who, no matter how many nights he laid awake trying. "Look, if you wanna throw in the towel, I get it. Heaven and Hell are both pretty quiet, and I can handle the few rogue ones that decide it's their day to die. You've done enough, man. You should enjoy your life."

Sam stared at him a while like he was trying to decipher what he was saying. “No, I’m not stepping aside for you to do this alone. I don’t know...” He shrugged. “I had this vision of us choosing a different path, but together. Next door neighbors with an open fence. Both... fulfilled. If this is all you want, then I’m here, Dean. But if you ever... if you’ve ever felt a hole or, or like something is missing. I’ve felt it too.”

He shouldn't have been surprised that his overgrown mop of a brother saw right through him, but he was anyway. Dean glanced at Sam, that hollowness suddenly opening right up again. "Yeah? What... what do you think it is?"

Sam sighed and shook his mop, “I don’t know. A person... a life? I’m not sure. But I always thought maybe we’d find it if we chose our own path. Do you ever feel like someone we love was just... taken from us? I’ve made a checklist and everyone is accounted for, so I know I probably make no sense.”

"Yeah..." Dean subconsciously raised his hand to his chest and lightly scratched over his heart. "Yeah, you could say that. But  _ that  _ doesn't make any sense, cause who would it be? And why would we both just... suddenly forget?" He finished his beer and set the bottle carefully on the ground. "I dunno. It's stupid, maybe it's just the empty space where our friggen souls used to be." He paused and then chuckled. "That would be a lot funnier if we didn't know that was a real thing that could happen."

“No kidding.” Sam cleared his throat and finished his beer. “The reason I think someone is missing, is  _ because _ of the things we deal with on a daily basis. Anything can happen a... a witch, a demon, an angel? I don’t know. But, I’ve felt it for years... probably since my twenties.”

Dean stared at his brother, shifting his weight on his feet. “Funny, that’s when mine started, too. The hell man, all this time and you never said anything?”

“Neither did you,” Sam stated. “This isn’t our first roadside beer, you had just as much of an opportunity as I did. But what could we say? I don’t even know how we got here now, but I’m glad we did. I feel... less crazy?”

And Dean felt even crazier, because if someone he loved was missing... he’d wasted years of his life when he should have been looking. “Yeah. Get in the car, we got work to do.” 


	34. Chapter 34

**Gabriel**

Sometimes, people do stupid things. And when you’re an archangel with nearly boundless powers and way too much free time… it gets worse. Add in a grudge and disaster strikes. So what does an ageless multidimensional wavelength do when disaster strikes? 

He doubles down. 

Gabe followed the Winchesters for quite a while. Those idiots somehow realized Cass wasn’t a part of their lives anymore, and it was seriously making him doubt his own skills. Maybe he’d been lazy… or too frenzied when he’d wiped their memories? Sam had been an afterthought anyway, although he didn’t understand how he could forget about Samsquatch. Gabe actually felt a little bad about that one, Sam didn’t have anything to do with any of this, he was as caught in the crosshairs as Gabe had been. 

Y’know, because Gabe is completely innocent. 

They weren’t getting very far in discovering their missing piece’s identity, but how could they? ‘Hey, do you remember someone we don’t?’ proved to be a pretty ineffective tactic. As did their trip to the psychic. Pamela’d basically told Dean to pound salt, the last time she did him a favor, she lost her eyes and they  _ still  _ hadn’t been any closer to figuring out Cass was the one that pulled him from hell. That lady could hold a grudge almost as long as Gabe. He kind of admired her for it, and he was definitely grateful - he didn’t know everything she was capable of but the last thing he wanted was to risk a  _ fortune teller  _ ruining his plan. 

Once he was relatively convinced they’d be shit outta luck discovering their angelic puzzle piece, he made his way back to Heaven. With Cass no longer leading the garrisons, Gabe had a different kind of hole he needed to worry about if he wanted to keep Raphael off his back. He was so,  _ so  _ close to his goal it was stupid, and the last thing he needed was divine retribution because a standing, useless army lost their standing, useless leader. 

_ Fricken Cass. Who’s bright idea was that, anyway?  _

His brother was a lot of things, and yeah, he’d lead the garrisons before. But that was a different life - literally - and no matter how deeply hidden it was, Cass was too human now to be an effective leader. He’d never be able to make any sort of objective decisions and he’d always,  _ always  _ let his emotions do the thinking. Not even decades stuck with Naomi could fully beat that out of him, though Gabe was pretty sure she’d tried. 

Something about that left a bitter taste in his mouth. Without a doubt, turning Cass over to that crazy bitch was the worst thing he’d ever done. He wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself for it, especially if he ever found out how bad it truly was. 

Gabe shook off those thoughts and set about finding a suitable replacement. He’d narrowed it down to two and  _ finally  _ quit looking over his shoulder, when he heard a booming, pissed off voice in his head. 

“ _ Gabriel !”  _

_ Shit. Shit, shit. Again with the shit.  _ Gabe froze, not sure whether it was better to just face Raphael like he hadn’t done anything wrong or flee for his damn life, but his hesitation made the decision for him. 

“What have you done, Gabriel?” Raphael was standing right in front of him, looking far angrier than the steadiness in his voice suggested. 

“I didn’t mess with time… this time.” He squinted at how stupid that sounded but it was true. “I swear. All I did was take a few memories, tweak a few more… add a couple that shouldn’t have been there…” 

Raphael seethed, and the force of his energy knocked Gabriel back a step. “Every single time I turn around, you’re screwing something else up.” 

Okay, that seemed like a bit of an overstatement. He’d hidden for a vast majority of all this, and he’d been pretty careful about the things outside of Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Ass -  _ or was it Tweedle Shit? Whatever.  _ “Nothing’s screwed up, Raph. Calm down, Inias over there has agreed to take on Cassie’s responsibilities. No harm, no foul, right?” 

“You’re a fool, Gabriel. You don’t know the half of what  _ she  _ did to Castiel, keeping him in Heaven was for the betterment of all. This is your mess… find a way to clean it up.” 

Gabe stood a little straighter, defiance sparking in his bones. “I didn’t even know she existed until  _ you  _ sent me to her, Raphael. Don’t put this all on me, and I’ll fix it once those d-bags pay for what they did.” 

Raphael’s head tilted back and he barked a bitter, dangerous laugh. “Poor little Gabriel with the broken heart. You’ve always been selfish, but this? This is a new low, even for you. I’m not going to tell you again… fix it, or  _ I  _ will.” 

He swallowed audibly, tucking his wings behind him and not wanting to ask what Raphael meant. Undoing what he did would be nearly impossible, Gabe would have to aim for damage control at best - but giving up on vengeance wasn’t something he was good at. “Help me, first. Help me get them back once and for all, and then I’ll find a way to fix it.” 

“Where is the line, Gabriel? When will  _ enough  _ be  _ enough? _ Do you want them to bleed? Do you want them to die? Do you want to see the path of the world changed over and over again until you manage to find a combination that gives you what you want? Honestly. Look at the bigger picture. What you want is an impossibility. There will never be a world, or a timeline, where Castiel and Dean Winchester are aware of the other’s existence and do not fall in love. It’s sickening, but it's a fact. It’s been written since before you were even a twinkle in our Father’s eyes.”

“Written? What the hell do you mean it’s  _ written?”  _ Fricken figures his dad would have something to do with this. Was it payback for all the pranks he’d pulled? All the times he swapped out his fathers ‘normal’ plans for weird shit like platypuses? It explained so much about why it was so damn hard to pull this off. 

Raphael ignored his question. “Fix it, Gabriel.” 

And then he was gone. 


	35. Chapter 35

**Castiel**

It took him months to discover that he had absolutely no chance at finding a Hand of God. Balthazar was rumored to have some, but that had fallen flat pretty quickly. He’d died at some point, and his weapons cache had been sealed before his death using his grace - and only his grace could unlock it. Whatever was in that room would be lost to time itself, and with it, one of Cass’ only hopes. 

There were whispers that Crowley had the Rod of Aaron, but Castiel didn’t have a clue if it was still charged or if the smarmy little shit had used it for something stupid. Knowing what the man had sold his soul for, he wouldn’t be surprised. 

With those being the facts of his situation, there wasn’t much he could do. He didn’t have any support, and going into Hell without backup was a  _ really  _ dumb decision. If he could just get to Dean… 

But what good would it do? Dean hated him, had tried to  _ kill  _ him. Cass might have his memories back, but there was no proof that Dean did. He’d have prayed to him, right? Would have reached out at some point? 

He closed his eyes and focused on stretching his grace to the corners of the world. There was once a time his awareness could find Dean in an instant, but now… they were disconnected in every way possible. Cass felt a faint, distant tugging somewhere near Lebanon, and tilted his head. Dean was… longing for him? No. That couldn’t be right, it had to be something else… or perhaps just Castiel’s own wishful thinking. No, if Dean was longing for him, he’d have said something. Prayed, come to find him, done  _ something.  _ Unless… 

Cass reflected on his last twenty years. He knew something was missing, but didn’t know what. It was like something itching somewhere he couldn’t scratch, and he’d ignored it for the most part because he hadn’t understood it and he’d had a job to do. Was that what this was? Did Dean feel it too, he just didn’t know why? 

_ Lebanon. The bunker?  _

So many questions, absolutely no answers. 

He had one choice, and that was to go find Dean. Gabriel would have to wait. If Cass was going to have to go to Hell, there was no one else he’d rather have with him than Dean. Gone were the days of mechanic garages and record stores and coffee shops… they were back in a world they both understood and loved and feared, and this was the world where they belonged together. All he had to do was remind Dean of that… one last time.

\---------------

Cass paced outside the bunker. His knocks went unanswered, and the damn thing was completely warded against him. It was so strong that even getting close enough to knock was exhausting, and he’d given up after only a few moments. 

_ How the hell am I supposed to get in?  _

He decided if he couldn’t get in, he’d have to wait until Dean came out. Cass stood as close to the bunker’s entrance as he could bear and waited, stark still and completely intent. The day turned into night and back again, and Cass still hadn’t moved. He’d waited for Dean this long, he could wait there for a thousand nights if needed. Dean  _ had  _ to come out eventually. 

Dean, apparently, had decided to live and die in that bunker. Three full days and nights passed. He was drenched in a downpour, stood steady during a storm, and dried out again in the sun. Cass was beginning to get desperate. He was so close to Dean he could practically taste him, so close to everything he’s ever wanted. 

“ _ Please, Dean.”  _ Out of options, he spoke directly into Dean’s mind. He knew the warding was strong, and he had no idea if it would work… but even if it didn’t, maybe unloading some of the weight on his chest would make him feel better. “ _ Please. It’s Castiel, and I know you don’t remember me, but we were friends, once. More than that. So much more. I didn’t remember you, but now I do… and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you the past twenty five years. I would have been had I known…”  _ His words were falling so far short of their intended target that he nearly gave up. How was he supposed to explain any of this? Previously, he’d been close enough to Dean to restore his memories. But from out here, it wasn’t possible. “ _ I need your help. Even if you don’t remember me, or what we had… I know you. I know you’d never turn someone away in need, and right now, I need your help more than ever. I’m facing an evil that I can’t defeat alone. You were, are, and always will be the Righteous Man. Please, I… come in peace, but I’m asking you to help me fight a war. Again.”  _

He stopped talking, realizing that it was true. Once again, he was coming to Dean with his problems… with the problems of Heaven. Wasn’t that what started all this to begin with? Cass putting a burden on Dean that he didn’t deserve? Dean had been through so much already, and most of it was his fault. Was it really fair of him to drag Dean down again?  _ No, but you’re going to do it anyway.  _

Cass’ breath caught in his throat as the bunker’s door finally opened and Dean stepped out, gun raised. 

“I know what you are, and these bullet’s ain’t normal metal. One wrong move, and I pull the trigger. You got that?” 

A quick glance at Dean’s mind told him those were angel-killing bullets, and therefore that gun was a very real, very lethal weapon. He nodded slowly, raising his arms in the air in surrender. 

“Yes, Dean. I’ve got it.” 


	36. Chapter 36

**Dean**

Dean eyed the man he’d woken up next to a million years ago and jerked his gun, signaling him to come inside. Every one of his instincts were screaming, but the guy had been out there for fucking  _ days.  _ Chances were that if he was there to hurt him, he’d have done it by now. Bunker’s warding couldn’t be that good anymore, not after all the abuse it’d taken over the years. 

“In.” 

He pressed the barrel of his gun between Castiel’s trench-coated shoulder blades and pushed him forward. “You say you know me… you should know where the dungeon is then, huh?” 

“Yes, Dean. I remember it well. I also know there’s no angel trap there, and that you keep the angel cuffs in your... bedroom.” 

He shoved the gun harder into his back. “Wrong. Keep moving.” 

Dean was too old for this shit. Seriously, he wouldn’t be a match for this angel if it came down to a fight, and he’d had to melt down the last angel blade he had to make the bullets. If he somehow lost his gun… 

A shiver ran down his spine as he guided the intruder to the dungeon. Sure, there wasn’t much in there anymore… but to trap an angel, you didn’t  _ need  _ much. Dean had been surprised to learn that. Just a little bit of holy oil… a well-placed victim… and fire.

As Castiel walked unknowingly into the center of the ring of holy oil, Dean fished his zippo out of his pocket. He’d had a lot of free time lately and had perfected a little trick that allowed him to flip open the cover and strike it with a single swipe against his thigh, and once it was lit… he dropped it and stepped back as the flames erupted around him. 

“Dean?” Castiel turned, his eyes wide and fearful as he shrunk in on himself. The defensive movement made Dean uneasy, like there was something inherently  _ wrong  _ about it, but at least he finally relaxed a little. Inside that circle, Castiel was every bit as powerless as Dean himself was. 

“Yep, that’s me. Now, you’re gonna tell me how the hell you know that and why you’ve been stalking me.” He released the hammer on his gun and set it down on the small table he’d set up down there, then turned his chair around and straddled the back. “You’re lucky I’m bored outta my mind right now and don’t have anything better to do, I thought about just killin’ you.” 

Castiel nodded but never took his eyes from the flames. “I’m an angel, although it’s clear you already knew that. My brother, Gabriel, he’s an archangel. He’s been... “ The angel huffed, straightening his posture but pinching his brows. “He’s been screwing with us for nearly a century. I need your help to stop him.” 

Dean sucked his teeth. “Lotta people screw with me, pal. Hell, he wouldn’t even be the first winged douche to do it - and no, I’m not including you in that. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just kill you right now. Seems to me like that would solve  _ my  _ problem.” 

“Dean, please. I know you don’t remember, but if you let me out of here, I can help you. I can restore your memories, and then you’ll understand. Trying to explain it all to you… we don’t have that kind of time,” Cass pleaded. 

His gut twisted at the sound, like his body was trying to tell him something. But fucking  _ what?  _ That he was right? That this guy was fucking crazy, and Dean was right to want to kill him? “Why’d you wake up in my bed?” 

Cass looked like he was struggling for an answer for a moment. “Because you invited me there, Dean. I know neither of us remembered at the time, but I remember everything. Every second of it, and you could too if you let me  _ out.”  _

“Nah. Kinda like the heat you’re givin’ off right now.” Dean bared his palms to the fire and smirked, but the gesture felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. He was...  _ full _ , like he’d eaten too much or drank too much or both. “Keep talkin’, and who knows. Maybe you’ll eventually say something I believe.” 

“Damnit, Dean! We don’t have time for this, we need… I need…” Cass squeezed his eyes shut and took a shuddering breath. “A hundred years ago, I pulled you from Hell. You were a pawn in Heaven’s games, in my father’s games, and I played into it. But we were bonded when I gripped you tight and raised you from perdition, and that bond has never faded. No matter what Gabriel has tried to do to us, no matter what  _ anyone  _ has tried to do… we have always found our way back to each other. You are my best friend, and I love you. But we  _ have  _ to hurry, I need you to believe me enough to let me go. I’ll restore your memories and we can stop Gabriel for good, I just… can’t do it without you. I don’t  _ want  _ to do it without you, because without you… there’s no point to anything at all.” 

Those blue eyes stared back at him, brighter than the fire itself. He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t, but at least part of him believed the angel. None of them were good liars, and there was truth etched over every centimeter of Castiel’s face. And weirdly enough, he felt comfortable in the dungeon with him… not like he normally did when he had someone trapped. He nodded hesitantly.  _ Fuck it, I’ve had a good run.  _ Dean extinguished the fire and stepped forward until he was inches from Castiel’s face.

“You got one shot. Make me remember.” 


	37. Chapter 37

**Gabriel**

Gabe watched the scene in the bunker’s dungeon as if he were trying to look at something through frosted glass. The warding was strong enough that he couldn’t get a clear view, but the presence of an angel helped a lot. Everything Cass heard, Gabe heard… and  _ make me remember  _ was enough to set his teeth on edge. Over and over again, he witnessed this same, stupid exchange. It was exhausting. 

“Oh, just kiss him already!” It was the last thing he wanted to see, but he wasn’t an idiot. That’s how this always ended, and according to Raphael, it’s how it  _ would  _ always end. He was surprised when it didn’t happen immediately, and even more surprised when Dean seemed to take a step back. “Plot twist?” His hopes soared. Maybe this was the time all his hard work paid off. 

He couldn’t see shit through the warding. No facial expressions, no body language. Just two, off-colored masses slowly moving away from each other… but that was enough. 

_ “Dean, I know it’s a lot. Believe me, I know. I went through it not so long ago, and you’ve been through this… how many times? I lost count. The point is, I need you to sit down and take a drink of water. Or whiskey, it doesn’t matter. Just breath, you’ll adjust to the sensory overload in a moment.”  _

Shit. They were just getting to the good part, Dean backing away meant nothing more than him trying to find a place to park his ass while he digested a century’s worth of forgotten memories. All wasn’t lost, yet, but he wasn’t optimistic. 

Gabe paced as he remained tuned in, stopping his endeavor to wear a hole in the clouds only when the masses began moving toward each other again. “No, no no! Stoppit, don’t…” Too late. Foggy or not, those two blobs were way too fricken close to each other. Yet again, they’d broken through. 

His bones felt heavy. Everything felt heavy, like he’d suddenly had the weight of all the world thrust on his shoulders. It was his own fault, he wasn’t stupid, but it didn’t make it any easier to stomach the fact that Castiel and Dean’s love was just stronger than his with Kali. That’s all this boiled down to. He was jealous that they had something he never could. That no one else ever could. 

“ _ A hand of what now?” _

_ “God, Dean. It’s an object - usually an ordinary one - that holds the power of God himself.”  _

_ “Like a friggen horcrux?”  _

_ “I don’t understand that reference, but no. I’m quite sure this isn’t like the crux of a whore, although I can’t fathom why you’d draw that parallel in the first place.” _

Okay, even Gabriel had to laugh at that. The best part of Castiel’s humor had always been that he had no idea when he was being funny. The humor faded entirely, however, when he remembered  _ why  _ they were going to get the Hand of God in the first place. 

For him. To stop him. Kill him. 

“Shiitake mushrooms, I gotta go.” Gabe didn’t move, though. From the sound of things, Dean was fully on board with Castiel’s little assassination plan, and Gabe wasn’t in the mood to die today. Going down to try to beat them to the Rod of Aaron would mean they’d almost certainly cross paths, and why make it easier to find him?

On the other hand,  _ not  _ going down there to get it first could mean risking certain death.  _ Dead if I do, dead if I don’t. Screw that, I’m going down swinging and if they think otherwise, they’ve got another thing coming.  _

He braced himself and zapped down to Hell. The whole place gave him the creeps, and he shuddered from the change in atmosphere. A couple of demons spotted him pretty quickly and he raised an eyebrow at them, which had them scattering.  _ Good, run along and tell Crowley I’m coming.  _

Gabe made his way through hell, icked out by the sounds of trapped souls begging for mercy. Hell looked a lot more fun on TV than it was in real life, but with any luck he wouldn’t be there very long.  _ Get in, get the rod, get out. The mantra of every pornstar.  _

It didn’t take him long to find it. That kind of power called to him, but Crowley’s stupid ass left it completely unattended in a weapons cache. He turned abruptly to smite a demon that was sneaking up on him and then made his way closer to the Rod of Aaron. 

This was it. All he had to do was reach out and take it, and all of this would be over. In one movement, he could destroy Dean and Cass completely… or he could  _ make  _ Kali remember him again. It was tempting, and the Hand was calling to him like the precious did to Gollum. Gabe’s fingers twitched with the desire to take it, but something held him back. 

For what seemed like the eightieth time, he asked himself why the hell he was really doing all of this. Maybe at some point it just became a pride thing - it hadn’t worked out the way he’d planned the first time, so… what, he’d just keep trying until it  _ did  _ work out? 

_ Pretty much.  _

He wanted to be done. More than anything in the world, he wanted to move on with his life. This had become the longest, most exhausting thing he’d ever taken part in, and he caused all of it. Maybe he should’ve just found it in his heart to be happy for them, or to try and get Kali to fall for him again. Anything other than dedicating a hundred years to fucking everything up. 

He could take the Rod and finish what he started… or he could leave it there, try to talk his way out of it… and finally move on. Or, he could die. 

Either way, option two sounded like the best way to go. Gabe let out a breath and turned toward the door, and true to form… Dean and Cass didn’t keep him waiting very long. 

“Hello, Gabriel.” 


	38. Chapter 38

**Castiel**

Gabriel held his hands up in mock surrender, “Oh no, you two.” He crossed his arms. “And I come in peace, little bro. Although, I don’t believe you two do. Hello,  _ Dean-o _ . Long time no see.”

Cass eyed the Rod of Aaron behind Gabriel and took a protective half-step forward in front of Dean. "You expect us to come in peace after everything you've done?"

"Hey," Dean gripped the arm of his trench coat and pulled him back. "Cass, just... wait." 

He didn't want to take his eyes off of Gabriel. "Dean, this needs to end."

“ _ Flannel _ is right, this does need to end. Never thought I’d see a Winchester with gray hair... speaking of hair, where’s Samsquatch?” Gabriel stayed rooted to the spot and Cass got the vibe he was stalling.

“None of your damn business, and quit fuckin’ callin’ him that.” Dean tensed, his hold on Cass’ sleeve intensifying. 

Cass eyed Gabe and didn’t move. “You could just leave us alone. No one needs to die here, Gabriel.”

Gabe kept his eyes on his brother, knowing who the real threat was here. Castiel may be a kitten with Dean Winchester, but in heaven, he had always been a force to be reckoned with. This  _ kitten  _ was a soldier, a soldier that has killed more than all of Earth’s wars combined. Gabriel knew better than to turn his back here. “You’re right. No one needs to die. Let’s just go get a cup of joe and you two love birds can sit and listen to the tales of my long lost love.”

He licked his lips slowly, mentally gauging the distance between himself and the Hand. Dean spoke next to him,“The hell makes you think we came here for story time?”

But for as lethal as Gabriel knew Cass was, the feeling was mutual. “Maybe he’s right, Dean. We should talk first, there’s still so much about this we don’t understand.”

“OF COURSE YOU...” Gabriel exclaimed, before taking a second to exhale a forced breath. “Of course you  _ don’t _ understand. Did you ever try to? Ever ask why?” 

“How were we supposed to ask why when we didn’t even know it was happening? The second we’d remember, something would change!” Dean started moving forward and Cass cut him off, turning his back to Gabriel for the first time. 

“Dean... we should hear him out.”

“How is it you two numbnuts always remember and she... doesn’t?” Gabriel looked... tired.

“She...?” Cass squinted, trying to figure out who... “Kali?” 

“Who the hell is Kali?” Dean barked, and Cass reached down to grip his hand as he faced his brother. 

“They were in love. Kali was to Gabriel what you are to me.”

Gabriel took a step closer. “Yes. Kali. Why is  _ your _ love written in the damn stars and not ours? Do you know how exhausting it was to keep you two apart? And you always found each other. I’m... done.“ He slumped slightly. “Are you here to kill me, brother?” He looked into Castiel’s eyes.

“That largely depends on you, Gabriel. You say you’re done, but are you? Truly? I don’t understand what your failed relationship has to do with ours, or why you felt any of this was necessary.” Cass knew the best case scenario was that everyone walked out of here alive and in peace, but this had gone on too long for him to trust it would be over just like that. His brother  _ was _ the Trickster, after all. “How do I know this isn’t yet another one of your schemes?”

“You started all of this, Castiel. You.” Gabriel sighed, “You screwed with time, for your boyfriend. I was just joining in your game.”

“Cass?” Dean looked at him, his eyebrows pinched. “That true? I mean, I remember you saying you were gonna go back and fix everything, and you did... sorta, but... did it fuck with other things?”

_ Yes. More things than I ever had the heart to count.  _ “There were some... side effects, yes.”

“Side effects.” Gabriel said in a deadpanned tone. “Side effects, Castiel? Really?”

“Not nearly as many as what you caused. Are you really going to lecture me? I did it  _ once _ , Gabriel. You did it... how many times?” He knew it didn’t make it any better, or absolve him of his own actions, but what he’d done had been out of love - not spite. 

“What the hell kind of side effects, Cass?” Dean dropped Cass’ hand. “What happened that you aren’t telling me?”

“Wars were fought that shouldn’t have been. Cures never discovered... notable deaths that weren’t planned. I had no idea how far reaching the effects were going to be, and I don’t care.” He pleaded with Dean silently, his eyes wide but sure. “I’d do it again. I don’t regret it.”

“Of course you don’t. Because  _ you _ can still make heart eyes with your boo. How many others can’t? There is no justification here,  _ bro _ . We both fucked up the order of things and Raf-“ Gabe paused. “A lot of people are not happy. We have to put it back... all of it.”

Cass let out an _ ah _ . “You’re afraid of Raphael, that’s why you haven’t done anything.” Even still, Gabriel had a point. They’d both screwed up, and honestly... Cass was having a hard time keeping up with what was real. 

“Can you do that? Just... undo it all?” Dean asked.

Gabe pointed at the hand, “With that? Yes. But... well. Cassie, why don’t  _ you _ tell him?”

_ Because I don’t want to.  _ Cass’ hands shook slightly and he licked his lips, biding time. “Dean, if we undo it all… your parents will die.  _ Sam  _ will die.” 

Gabe scoffed. “The day a Winchester sacrifices his brother for the betterment of the world, I’ll lay a fricken egg.”

He watched the pain etch itself across Dean’s face and his heart sank. 


	39. Chapter 39

**Dean**

Dean looked between them, more torn than he’d ever been in his life. “So what, all I gotta do is kill my whole family and everyone lives happily ever after?” The bitterness in his tone was evident.

“Ding ding. Now tell me,  _ Hero _ . Are you willing to sacrifice your loved ones for the greater good?” Gabe eyed Dean, watching him process.

_ Yes. No. Why the hell does this shit always happen to me?  _ His heart sank, thinking about his brother’s puppy dog eyes and his mom’s hugs. How could he just... let that all go? But this was different, they weren’t  _ supposed _ to be alive. He’d had... how many extra years with them? “Will they know?” 

Cass shook his head, squeezing Dean’s hand. “No, it’ll be like none of this ever happened.”

Gabe stayed quiet while Dean and Cas shared a look. He may be a douchebag at times but he wasn’t heartless. “We’ll all lose people, Dean. You just have the hardest blow.”

He screwed up his face and looked at the ground, centering himself at the point where his hand was clasped in Cass’. Dean knew at the end of the day, he didn’t have a choice. Gabe and Cass would do whatever they wanted to do, no matter what he wanted... just like they always did. Them asking was just a formality. “Is there a way you can at least make me remember? I got to watch my brother grow up with normal parents and a normal life. I got to watch him be happy, I don’t wanna forget that.”

“Hell, if I have to remember this shit storm, you should too.” Gabe took a few steps towards the hand. “That mean we’re doing this?”

Dean fought back the tears threatening to come out. Every damn time he managed to get his hands on everything he could ever ask for, he was yanked back in time and forced to start over. This time was only different because he was saying ‘yes’ first. He closed his eyes, picturing his mom and dad and brother... Bobby, Charlie, Ellen.... all the people he loved that would be gone again in the blink of an eye. “We do this, Kali remembers you, right? Which means you leave us the hell alone?”

“Yes. But as you can see, I’m tired, Dean-o. Regardless of the outcome, i’ll leave you alone and you’ll leave me alone, capeesh?”

“Yeah, I capeesh. Any chance this gets fucked up? What’s your margin of error here?” Dean’s biggest fear was repeating the same damn thing they had been.

“It doesn’t matter. One way or the other, I’ll find you, Dean. A thousand lifetimes could pass and I would still find you, and we’d find a way to fix this.” Cass’ voice was soothing, and as he looked into his eyes, Dean knew he meant it. 

“Fine. Just do it, before I change my mind. But Gabe... I ever see your stupid face again, I  _ will _ kill you.”

“Harsh, but trust me, I’ve had my fill of your constipated face too, buddy.”

Cass pulled Dean into a hug and whispered some bullshit about how sorry he was as Gabe reached for the fucking staff that was going to ruin his life. Dean clenched his jaw and held his angel tight as Gabe said something he didn’t pay attention to, and the next thing he knew, he was throwing up on a hillside. 

Cass put his hand on Dean’s back and knelt down. “He’s gone, Dean. It’s over... I think.” 

_ Fucking awesome. _ Cass had worked his mojo and Dean was no longer puking, but it was short lived as a wave of sadness and nausea rolled over him. “So they’re... they’re dead? All of ‘em?” 

Their bond was intact again, and Dean could feel the sadness pouring off of Cass like a sticky, thick wave. “I would think so. I’m so sorry, Dean.”

“I know, Cass.” Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I know you are. And I’m mad as hell at you for doing it without askin’ me, but I think we’ve both been through enough.”

Cass dropped to his knees and pulled Dean in. He obviously didn’t know what to say, but he was there. And Dean could feel him on a level that can’t be explained. He lost everyone but Cass.

“Apologies, Dean. I just...” Cass sighed. “I wanted you to be happy. You deserve so much more than this world has given you.”

Dean didn’t deserve anything at all, least of all someone that loved him enough to change the whole world for him. He slumped against his angel, his heart heavy. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

“Yes... over. And yet, we’ve just begun. You haven’t seen yourself, but how do those joints feel?” Cass ran a hand through Dean’s hair.

He smiled at him in spite of it all. “Better. I’m a young buck again, huh? You prefer me like this or all wrinkly?”

“I prefer you in any form, Dean. Only you.” Cass lifted his chin and kissed him softly.

The handprint on his shoulder twinged slightly as Cass fit his hand over it. “Damn, that... that’s a feeling I haven’t felt in a real long time.” He stood up, pulling Cass with him and wrapping his arms around him. “I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“I would have waited forever, Dean. I love you, more than anything, in any world, in any timeline.”

Dean took a shuddering breath, the warm familiarity of Cass surrounding him and settling the sadness inside of him that he’d almost gotten rid of. “Me too, Cass. Can we go home? I think I need a drink.”

“Just one? Or shall I hit up a liquor store so we can drink it?”

He laughed, the sound punching unwillingly out of his body. “Hell, after the lives we’ve led? We might wanna drink two.” 


	40. Chapter 40

**Dean**

In the week since things had gone back to normal, they’d done pretty much nothing but make up for lost time. It had taken Dean a couple of days to feel normal again, but it was almost alarming how quickly he adjusted to his new…  _ old _ life. 

Cass made him take some time off from hunting, but Dean was pretty sure it was just an excuse to keep him in bed. Not that Dean was complaining, mind you. Breakfast in bed followed by awesome friggen sex and then a wing blanket? He could  _ absolutely  _ get used to that. 

He rolled over, grinning to himself at the way Cass’ feathers felt against his bare skin. “You’re soft. Remind me again why we didn’t do this before?”

Cass huffed a laugh. “Um... I wanted to. Believe me.”

“Shoulda just done it.” He wiggled around to face him and smiled sleepily, kissing Cass’ jaw. “I’d have only complained for a minute.”

Cass smiled and closed his eyes to the kisses. “Well, we’re here now.” He interlocked their fingers. “How are you doing, Dean?”

“Would be better if you’d quit askin’ me that.” He dropped his head to the hard muscles of Cass’ chest and let out a breath. “It sucks, but... I dunno. It’s not as bad as I expected. Guess I’m just so used to shit changing every time I think I’ve got a grip on what’s going on that I don’t think it’s really sank in yet, y’know? Like Sammy’s been dead before, and then he’s come back.”

“Dean, I will find a way to get your brother back. I- I don’t know how, but I will.”

Dean shook his head. “No, stoppit. Cass, I love ya and I love how big your heart is, but the last time you tried to give me back somebody I love... well, do I really gotta remind you?”

“No, you don’t.” He sighed, “I’m sorry, Dean.” Cass touched his face, “I love you too.”

“Yeah.” Dean frowned, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck. “‘S fine. Kinda screwed yourself there, though. I was in the mood for that thing where we rub our dicks together, but now I just need another drink.” 

“Dean, I…” 

“Cass, if you say sorry one more goddamn time I’m gonna throat punch you.” He couldn’t take it anymore. All Cass had done since they landed back in whatever-the-fuck year this is was apologize. Dean wasn’t even angry… not really. He was frustrated that it took turning the world on its head to make him happy, and that he had gained so much during that just to have it all taken away… but anger wasn’t the right word. 

_ Almost everything.  _ He still had his angel, and if he learned one thing while living four extra lives, it was that nothing could ever come between them. They could fight, argue, go years without talking, be with other people, forget the other existed entirely - and they’d still find their way back to each other. Part of him wished that Gabriel would have used the Hand of God to take them back even further, so he could do things differently - mainly, take the sparks that flew when he first met Cass figuratively as well as literally, and instead of stabbing him, he shoulda dropped to his knees right then. How many things would have been easier for him after that if he had? But part of being a hunter was heartache. There weren’t any happy hunters, because happy hunters had something to lose and made for poor heroes. Dean figured they needed the angst, the loss, the gut-wrenching sacrifices and fleeting little moments of joy to be effective at what they did. ‘Why me?’ is a very real question when you’ve got something you’re scared to lose, and for a hunter, the answer  _ has  _ to be ‘better me than someone else.’ 

The one thing he could hold onto in all of this was Cass, and the memory of growing  _ sort of  _ old with his mop-headed brother. He’d been close, that day, to giving in and finally retiring. Being 50 and still trying to outrun vamps and wolves and shifters was a pain in the ass, and now that he knew that… not only did he have a new appreciation for Rufus and Bobby and his own father, but he also didn’t know if hunting was something he wanted to be doing anymore. He hated feeling like that, but hunting without Sam had always felt hollow… not to mention he’d already spent the combined total of a lifetime doing the damn job. If he now had a chance to hang it up and be happy with Cass, maybe he should take it.

They dressed in silence and made their way out to the map table. Cass poured him a glass of whiskey and he set the glass down over Australia after taking a sip, his eyes drifting to all the places the world had to offer that he’d never seen. 

“Well, we can cross New Zealand off the list. You never did tell me why you picked there of all places to take me after that demon hunt.” 

Cass smiled sheepishly and leaned against the wood. “It was the first place I could think of that was as beautiful as you were.” 

Dean rolled his eyes and groaned. “Ahhh, c’mon, Cass.” He was about to suggest a nice vacation spot when he heard the groaning of the bunker’s door. Dean set his jaw and reached under the table to grab the gun he kept there and raised it, pointing it directly at the chest of --

“Sammy?” 

His breath caught in his throat and he lowered the gun immediately, looking at Cass for confirmation that was really his brother and not a demon or a shifter. Cass squinted at Sam and then smiled, the expression slowly spreading across his face. “Yes, Dean.” 

Sam thundered down the stairs and rounded the corner, dropping his bag. “Dude, where the hell have you two been? I’ve been calling you for days, Gabriel said you guys went on a trip…? You coulda told me. Here, he said to give this to you.” 

“Gab-” Dean’s eyes widened and he took the rolled up piece of paper from his brother. 

_ Dean-o, you said you don’t ever wanna see my face again, and even though I think you’re incredibly wrong… I thought maybe there was someone else’s face you’d wanna see. He doesn’t remember dying - and those memories were erased by the power of Dad himself, so don’t even try to bring ‘em back. Wish I could be a fly on the wall when you tattle on me, but I find I’m quite busy these days… Kali’s every bit as insatiable as I remembered. Sayonara my f… well, just sayonara.  _

“Well?” Sammy prodded. “What’d he say? Where were you guys?” 

Cass wrapped his arm around Dean’s shoulder as he looked up at his brother, and this time... the tear that ran down his cheek was from relief and joy and  _ peace.  _ “Ahh, Sammy. It’s a really,  _ really  _ long story.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's all folks. Huge, HUGE shout out to CeliPuff, without whom this fic would never have been finished.


End file.
